


Failure to Thrive

by jadebrycin2116



Category: Batman (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Bakery, Baking, Bulimia, Child Abuse, Crushes, Drama, Dysfunctional Family, Eating Disorders, Emotional Abuse, F/M, Family Drama, Gen, Gotham U, M/M, Multiple Relationships, Physical Abuse, Purging, binge eating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-28 09:37:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 76,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadebrycin2116/pseuds/jadebrycin2116
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim's parents had always been cold, but he never thought they would cut him off. He's got one yr to figure things out, and in the mean time he's stuck working for Bruce Wayne's kids. While he's busy trying to find himself and keep anyone from noticing the eating disorder he's got creeping back, everyone else seems to be trying to make his life more difficult.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> my first attempt at writing characters like damian, tim, jason, barbara, steph, the drakes...eeck, sorry if theyre a little off. i tried :/
> 
> deals with topics like eating disorders and child abuse so this is just a warning
> 
> working title....

 

1

 

_“Could you be anymore stupid?”_

_“What is wrong with you?”_

Tim sat on the edge of his bathtub, a pained gasp filling his lungs as he pressed an alcohol saturated cotton ball to his cheek. It stung, but it wasn’t a feeling he was unfamiliar with. He didn’t particularly _care_ for it, by now though he was accustomed to it.

_“How could you not get accepted? I did all of the work! You should’ve got in on my name alone!”_

_“We should’ve known better Jack. Timothy finds a way to ruin everything!”_

The cut had already welted and was going to bruise, he was sure of it. It wouldn’t be bad though. He’s had worse. At least this time his father’s hand had been open when he struck his face, instead of balled into its usual fist. However, something about being slapped was a little more shameful, more _degrading_.

 

_“I want you to do one thing and you can’t even do it right! I’m so embarrassed to call you my son right now I barely even want to see your face!”_

_“What is everyone going to say when they find out? Didn’t we give you everything? You never needed or wanted for anything you ungrateful leech. You could’ve at least done this much!”_

His parents weren’t always that cold and heartless…or maybe they were, but they weren’t _always_ physical with him. Usually, The Drakes only laid hands on their son when they were really angry with him, or in this case extremely angry _and_ disappointed. Tonight, his father had been very upset and he was holding back, Tim could tell. He’d only grabbed him by the arms and back handed him. The rest of the time, he could barely stomach looking at his son. Tim wasn’t sure which hurt worse.

_“I hope you don’t expect me to support you after this. You have the rest of this year and then you’re on your own. No trust fund. No college fund. I don’t know what you’re going to do, but you better start figuring things out now.”_

_“I know you’ve never worked for anything ever in your life, and have no work ethic at all, but might I suggest you take your lazy ass out and find a job? In fact, Mr. Wayne down the street was telling me about the bakery his son and the Commissioner’s daughter run. Maybe if you’re lucky, I can beg him to put in a good word for you.”_

His mother was right when she’d said he’d never had a job before. Other than his straight-A average, he really never had to work anything in his life, and he barely had to work for that. School came naturally to him. Plus being born with wealthy parents and a silver spoon in your mouth didn’t hurt much either. At least it never had before, but now that his parents were essentially cutting him off after his senior year, never having to work for anything may have just put him at a serious disadvantage.  

It was moments like this, moments where he was at his lowest or where he felt all around inadequate, moments when he just couldn’t figure out the right way to cope, that he found old habits creeping back. Usually he could keep a handle on it, but that nobody could be one hundred percent in control one hundred percent of the time. This was one of those times.

He put away his alcohol and swabs, and made his way into his room. The first thing he did was stick his hand into the second drawer of his nightstand, a drawer he tried not to venture into often, but kept stocked because he couldn’t really help it. He didn’t feel right if it wasn’t. From inside he pulled out one of several cheap cardboard boxes filled with whatever artificial, plastic packaged snack’s he’d bought that day.

 _What_ he ate wasn’t that important, it was more about the sense of control and comfort he got from eating it. Curling up in his bed, his face towards the wall, Tim opened the first plastic wrapper and started in. At least if he concentrated on eating through this entire box of snack cakes he wouldn’t have the energy to keep dwelling on what a failure he was, or how much he’d disappointed his parents, or the ache of the bruises starting to form on his arms, or anything else that was going wrong at the moment. Right now it was just him and food, and he liked it way.

_“You have no idea how lucky you are. Mr. Wayne’s son was actually looking for a new cashier to work weekends and afterschool. You start tomorrow morning at nine.”_

He couldn’t wait.  

* * *

 

Tim woke up early the next morning, because he tried to never waste his mornings if he could, and rolled over; getting a good look at the damage he’d done last night. Ten cakes at about one hundred and fifty calories each according to the box…it added up to about fifteen hundred calories in one sitting.

 _Disgusting_.

At least that’s how most people would feel about it. That’s how he usually felt about it after doing it enough times. It didn’t bother him until it started to become visible to other people, mostly his parents. When they started to comment on how much he was eating at the table or ask him if he was putting on weight was generally when he would decide to get a hold on things…kind of.

 _If you could call throwing up or excessively working out getting a hold on things_.

For most people it wouldn’t, but for Tim, they both counted. That’s how he kept this disorder in check. He wouldn’t really consider himself a bulimic or a compulsive eater. This wasn’t a binge _and_ purge thing, but it wasn’t just a binge thing either. He was different and it was complicated. Besides, he’d managed to keep it in check this long. If it was really a problem, he’d probably be in some sort of in-patient program. It wasn’t a problem. The fact that his parents were absolutely pissed at him and he had to work this stupid, time consuming job when he could be doing better things, was the problem.  

* * *

 

The bakery was _nice_. There definitely wasn’t anything wrong with it by Tim’s standards. It was in a very nice part of the city, and that was saying a lot considering this was Gotham and sometimes even the safest parts were pretty damn sketchy. The sign outside said “Barbara’s”, which Tim didn’t find to be very creative, but it was better than something cheesy like _“Sprinkles”_ or _“Frosting”_. It was a good size with huge floor to ceiling windows lining the front of the building. The inside was decorated in very pale purples and yellows, a combination that sounded gross but worked and was actually fairly pleasing to the eyes.  

“You must be Timothy,” he heard from behind him as he leaned forward and glanced over the pastries sitting in one of the display cases. 

Immediately he found himself correcting the girl out of habit. “Yeah um, Timothy Drake; but I just prefer Tim actually.”  

He stood up and turned around to see a tall redhead smiling at him. She was definitely a knockout; that was the first thing he noticed. It was hard to miss. He’d seen a lot of attractive females in his life, but she was something else. Maybe he might actually enjoy this job?

“Well hey Tim, my name’s Barbara…but I guess you probably already knew that from the sign huh? Either way, you can just call me Babs.”

Babs? Seemed a little informal considering she was his boss and the name was reminding him of cartoon rabbits, but he brushed it off. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Well aren’t you polite,” she beamed, “That’s good because on cashier, you’ll be dealing with most of the customers that come through. Have you ever worked a cash register before?”

Tim shook his head. He’d never even had a job before, but he didn’t mention that much.  

“Alright, well I’ll get Dick to show you when he gets here,” she glanced up at the clock, “Which will be soon hopefully. We open at ten, but everyone’s supposed to come in an hour early to set up, or do inventory, things like that…Nine times out of ten, it’s usually just me on weekends because Dick and his brothers can’t ever seem to truly make it on time to anything.”  

She doesn’t sound that upset about it, so Tim concludes that it’s something she’s accepted by now. He can’t help but wonder how long it’s been going on and exactly how much leniency Dick and his brothers have at this job?  

He suspects it’s a lot and he wouldn’t be surprised. He and Babs may not know each other, but Tim’s met Bruce Wayne’s kids once or twice at some charity events. They’re smart, attractive, charming and they’re _Bruce Wayne’s_ kids, which pretty much ensures that they get whatever they want whenever they want it. Nothing is too much or impossible for them. While most people only read about it in the tabloids and papers, he’s witnessed that first hand.

“Well until he gets here, I’ll clue you in on everything else. Jason, the middle brother, and I do majority of the baking. Dick helps sometimes, but mostly he handles the business aspects of things like taking orders, balancing the checkbook, paying bills. He basically handles all of the boring stuff. Damian, the youngest, just started not too long ago. He mostly cleans, washes dishes, pretty much the physical labor. I have a few other friends that work here during the week, but you won’t see them much because they’ll be here while you and Damian are at school.

Um, on weekdays you’ll work three-thirty to five-thirty. Saturdays are nine to seven. Sundays are nine to five-thirty. On weekends you get two fifteen minute breaks and a half hour lunch break. Dick will more than likely cover the register whenever you choose to take those...”

Politely Tim nods as Barbara stops to think about what to say next. She glances around, her blue eyes darting across the bakery before it finally comes to her. “Oh! Here, follow me,” she says, leading Tim behind the counters and through an archway that leads to a hallway.

There’s a utility closet behind one door and through another archway he can see the state of the art kitchen, but Barbara keeps walking towards the end of the hall. “There’s a break room back here with a fridge and a bathroom. Dick’s office is back here too. But here,” she opens another door that houses a small room with clothing folded on top of shelves. “What size do you wear?”

Tim thinks for a second. He’s not really a big guy, not very tall or ripped or anything. He’s not incredibly small either, but clothing can be weird sometimes. He settles on medium. That seems safe. “Medium.”

Barbara begins pulling down a pile of things from the almost endless looking stacks filling the shelves. Something tells him Mr. Wayne paid for a lot of this, and maybe he still does. She places several t-shirts in his hand in various colors, along with several long sleeves, a hooded sweatshirt and a fleece. They all feature the logo from the sign outside on them. “I really don’t care what kind of bottoms you wear, because you’ll mostly be behind the counter anyway, but make sure to wear one of these tops to work every day okay?”  

He looks down at the ridiculous pile in his hands. She’s basically given him a new wardrobe. It shouldn’t be hard to figure out how to put one of these on before he comes in. Following a uniform isn’t rocket science. He does it every day at school. “Okay.”  

She flashes a big, satisfied looking smile before crossing her arms and tapping her foot as she lets out a steady, “ _Hmmm…”_  

Tim waits patiently until whatever she’s trying to come up with next finally clicks to her. He’s starting to get the feeling that running a bakery can’t be all that hard if she’s struggling to come up with things to tell him.

“I think that’s about it until Dick comes…though it is a requirement that you taste everything we offer on the menu regularly as well as whatever limited and seasonal items we’re offering so that if a customer should ask, you can tell them about each pastry. Saturday mornings aren’t all that busy, so if you want to start after you’ve got a feel for working the register, go ahead.”

While the thought of eating a bunch of delicious pastries is ridiculously appealing, Tim knows he needs to watch it, especially after last night. It always starts off slow, but when he gets going, he tends to lose himself in a series of binges until his parents notice or he does. It’s a vicious cycle and he wished he hadn’t slipped up like he did.  

When she can’t seem to think of anything else he needs to know, Tim takes the extra time to change into a black version of the long sleeve and toss the rest of the clothes in the backseat of the car. It’s while he’s undressing in the previously empty parking lot that Dick, Jason, and Damian pull up. Regardless of whether he’s met them or not before, being seen half naked by your new co-workers is awkward; and he’s pretty sure that’s not the greatest way to start your first day. He’s just relieved he’s got nothing to be embarrassed about. He’s been back to his normal size for at least three or four months now.

He’s got his new shirt halfway over his head when he hears honking and several obnoxious hoots from the car beside him, all of which are coming from one Dick Grayson. If he’s trying to embarrass Tim, and he’s pretty sure that’s exactly what he’s trying to do, he’s definitely accomplished that. He quickly forces the shirt over the rest of his torso as he hears the sound of car doors closing and laughter.

“Welcome to your first day Timmy,” Dick smiles, walking over and patting the teen on the shoulder. He’s oddly comfortable with touching and nicknames despite the fact that they’re not even friends, barely acquaintances. They just happen to have been raised in the same social circle.

“My name’s Dick,” he offers giving Tim an up and down glance. Tim’s pretty sure the older male is sizing him up. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Tim and likewise,” he replies, following Jason and Damian’s lead and walking into the bakery. Barbara’s already standing in the lobby waiting for them.

Once they’re all in she’s rolling her eyes, “Well Dick, I see you already harassed our new worker. Tim this is Jason and this Damian. You two, this is Tim.” 

“Hey.” Jason, the older and bigger of the two, gives Tim a fairly nonchalant head nod. He looks like he could care less, and it doesn’t really bother Tim much. Sure they’re co-workers, but it’s not like they’ll really be doing much together anyway. He’ll be in the back all day. 

Next to Jason, Damian has his arm crossed and a scowl plastered to his face. He’s definitely sizing Tim up, and has been the entire time; but unlike Dick gaze, it’s clearly meant to be taken hostile. He doesn’t wave, or say hi, or anything mildly polite. Instead he just scoffs and rolls his eyes before heading towards the back, “I still don’t see why we needed to hire someone else,” he grumbles, “I’m more than competent enough to handle the register.” 

It’s pretty obvious that Damian’s not his biggest fan and that probably won’t be changing anytime soon. That could potentially be a problem. Tim figures he’ll be seeing more of Damian than he would of Jason. 

Barbara lets out an irritated sigh and shrugs, “Ignore Damian. He’s always like that, but he’ll come around.”  

He highly doubts it.  

“Well Dick, if you want to show Tim what he’ll be doing and cover anything I might have forgotten…Jason and I are going to go get started in the back. We’ve got a couple of orders we need to work on.”

Jason huffs, not seeming excited in the least. Then again how many guys that look like Jason would be excited about baking? He’s fairly big, still clean cut, but a little rougher around the edges than his brothers. Tim vaguely remembers reading something about Bruce Wayne finding this kid on the streets, so it makes sense.  

Tim jumps a little when Dick wraps an arm around his shoulder as if they’ve been best friends their whole lives. That’s twice now that he’s touched him and the teen can’t decide if he should be flattered or say something. He’s not really a fan of being touched, for obvious reasons.  

“Alright, working the counter’s pretty basic. You just ring people up and wrap up whatever they buy. I handle all of the custom orders and answer the phone, so you don’t really have to worry about that. If you ever run out of anything up here or something starts running low, tell Babs. Either she has one waiting in the fridge in the kitchen, or she’ll whip up whatever we’re missing.”

Tim just nods as Dick leads him to register and explains the buttons and tasks that he’ll need to be familiar with. It takes him no time. Honestly, he probably could’ve figured the contraption out himself, but he doesn’t say anything. After that, Dick shows him where to find bags, or plates if the customers want to sit in and enjoy their pastries at a booth or table. That’s pretty idiot proof too. They order a pastry, they pay, Tim puts it on a plate and hands it to him. This is probably going to be the most boring, straight forward job ever…but at least it’s easy.

“So any questions?” Dick smiles when it’s over. He’s sitting on top of the counter, with his head tilted anxiously awaiting Tim’s answer. Is he always like this?

He shakes his head, “No.”

It’s silent for a few moments, before Dick’s eyes squint in the most seriously look Tim’s seen him give so far. “You don’t talk much do you?”

He’s a little taken back as he narrows his eyebrows slightly. He doesn’t usually get asked that. He talks with his friends and the reporters or the important people at the events he goes to, so they’ve never questioned it; and most of the time he feels like his parents wish he would stop talking to them altogether. “Um…”

“It’s okay,” he laughs, “You’ll warm up to me eventually. Everyone does.”

Tim’s mouth parts slightly, but he doesn’t know how to respond. Dick clearly isn’t expecting a reply because he slides down from the counter and begins to head to the back.

“If you need anything just come find me. I’ll be in my office.”

The teen nods and takes a seat on the stool behind the register. He tries getting comfortable because he figures he’s going to be sitting like this for at least a few hours.

* * *

 

Barbara wasn’t kidding when she said the morning was slow. He’s been sitting here about an hour and a half, it’s almost 11:15; and he’s only seen two customers, but he didn’t have to do anything because they were picking up cake orders.

It’s easy money.

But he’s got way to much free time to think, especially about last night. Just like he thought, the area around the cut bruised just slightly. He’s glad nobody this morning seemed to notice or say anything…not that he probably wouldn’t have made up a lie anyway.

He can still see the way his dad refused to look him in the eye or how his mom stared as if she was utterly disgusted by him. That had been the last straw. He already got the feeling that nothing he could do was ever really good enough for them, but this was like his last chance; and when he told his parents what the letter in the mail from Gotham U had said yesterday, he’d managed to screw that up.

“So how’s it going?” He glances over he sees Barbara leaning against the doorway.  

“Um…” he shrugs. He swears he’s never said ‘um’ this many times in an hour ever in his life. “Fine I guess. I mean, nobody’s really come in. I haven’t done anything.”

“It probably won’t pick up until people start coming down for lunch…Well, have you liked anything you’ve tried so far?”

His eyes widen briefly in confusion, “ _Tried_?”

“My menu, that you’re supposed to tasting out here? Grab a plate and get started, at least it’ll give you something to do.”  

“Yeah…I’ll um, get started on that.”

That seems to pacify her and she beams, “Okay, I’ll be back to see how you’re doing later.”

He nods. He doesn’t understand how she and Dick seem so chipper this early in the day, but he’s glad he can help keep her happy.  

He grabs a plate and a fork and looks over at the first case. Tim can’t help but think this is probably the hands down worst place to put a kid with his _problems_ …but it’s not like anyone else knows he has them, so how could his parents know any better? Sure he’s still upset about last night, but he’s got a handle on it. He’s in control, and he’s never been _that_ bad anyway, so he’s fine. At least, that’s what he tells himself.

He’ll just take one bite of everything and then throw the leftovers out. It’ll be a big waste, but it’s not like the task was to _eat_ it all, just _taste_ it.  

* * *

 

It takes him a few hours, but he gets through about one of two display cases. It’s hard but he manages to keep with his one bite rule throughout most of it; though he does slip up once on a really good piece of German Chocolate cake and finishes about half before he realizes what he’s doing. He’s still got a whole case and several samples on the counter to try but he’s checking out for right now. Asking him to taste everything in a few hours without a break is just unrealistic anyway.

Around twelve-thirty things start picking up, but it’s still not moving extremely fast. Barbara says it’s just a slow day, _that usually Saturday’s are more exciting than this_ , and he wants to believe her but that might just be because he thinks she’s pretty.  

When things are moving really slow, and it’s been about thirty minutes since the last customer, Tim stands and decides to ask Dick for something to read from his office to past time. He likes to read so it should actually help to kill some of the boredom.

He walks down the hall, hoping to be quick so he doesn’t miss a customer, and gets an eyeful of way more than he’s expecting when he looks through the partially open door of Dick’s office. He’s sitting in his chair with Barbara straddling his lap and they’re pretty much eating each other’s faces as he slides his hand up her shirt. Tim’s not exactly sure, after all he’s not a baker or anything, but something tells him that isn’t exactly sanitary.

Regardless, this is none of his business, but before he can slip out unnoticed, Dick sees him standing in the now open doorway and pulls away from Barbara. She’s seems upset at first, but when she looks over her shoulder, she’s begins to blush bright red. 

“O-oh, Tim!”

“Tim wai-” Dick’s saying as the teen backs out. He puts his hands up in the universal sign for ‘not a threat.

“Um, wow…I’m ugh-I’m sorry-I’ll just-” He doesn’t even finish before he’s walking back down the hallway. He’s not sure why but he’s just as embarrassed and wants to get out of that awkward situation as fast as possible.   

Of course that isn’t possible because when he’s sitting back at his post, he can feel Dick just looking at him from the doorway. Tim is praying he’s just going to turn around and drop it. He doesn’t want any sort of explanation. So he and Barbara hook up at work sometimes? Maybe she has a thing for sex in public places, or maybe he does, who cares? Tim doesn’t. He just wants to pretend he never saw that shit. 

“So…” Dick says, sliding up onto the counter, “About that…”

“About what?”

“Oh come on Tim, we both know you saw that.” 

“Really Dick its fine, you don’t have to come up here and run damage control. You’re both adults. I should’ve knocked or something,” he says it as nonchalant as possible in hopes that Dick will just go away, but Tim’s starting to notice that Dick’s a special type of guy.

“No, that was my fault. I could’ve at least closed the door all the way or waited unt-”

At this point, he just really wants Dick to go. He doesn’t want to hear about it or talk about it. Besides they’re not even friends, so he really want any details and it’s an uncomfortable subject anyway. At least they were just kissing. “Look, what you do with your girlfriend in _your_ bakery during your downtime is none of my business.”

The only response he gets is a very confused, “Girlfriend?”

Tim just looks up. He figured by the way they were groping each other at his desk and the fact that they shared a bakery together made it sort of obvious. Sure, it’s called “Barbara’s” but Tim isn’t stupid. He knows Dick put up the money for it, or convinced Bruce to, and his name is probably the one on the lease. 

“Barbara’s not my girlfriend,” he laughs, “We’re just friends, and co-workers.”

“Do you buy all of your friends businesses?” Tim deadpans. It probably isn’t the smartest remark to shoot your boss, but he just really wants Dick to leave. He also doesn’t want him to get the idea that because they work together they’re suddenly best friends, and something tells him that’s what the older male is thinking. 

He laughs more, which is the exact opposite of what Tim is hoping and expecting. “ _No._ Babs is like my oldest friend, my _best_ friend. I did this for her after a back injury made her incapable of joining the police force, that’s what she _really_ wanted. I know what you saw back there was a little, _weird_ for you I guess, but we’re not dating. Not even close. That muddies up the waters, you know?”

So they’re just casually fucking is basically what he’s trying to say. Tim gets it. They’re both attractive people, whatever. He’s not sure why he’s trying to justify this to him, or why he feels the need to reiterate the fact that he and Barbara aren’t together.  

Suddenly Dick’s reaching a hand out, resting it on Tim’s knee which is just strange, but at this point he doesn’t question it. _Dick_ is strange…and way to comfortable with himself. Tim is willing to bet money he didn’t wash his hands before touching him, or at least sanitize either. “So what did you need?” 

“It was nothing. I was just going to ask if you had anything to read, but I’ll ugh, manage.”  

“Are you sure? I could grab you something.”

“No, really it’s fine.”

“You just want me to leave, don’t you?” Dick offers, but he doesn’t sound offended. It’s more sly, like he’s teasing. “We’re going to have to get to know each other eventually you know.”

Tim knows, but he isn’t looking forward to it. Honestly, it’s not even necessary. He isn’t really here to make friends, he has those. He’s here because he has to be.

He looks around nervously, wondering how he’s going to get out of this, but Dick continues.

“Just humor me, answer a few questions and I’ll get out of your hair.”

Tim lets out a long sigh and stares at the door, praying a customer will walk in and put him out of his misery. Of course his first day just has to be a slow one. It’s not that he minds much, it’s still easy money, but he could use an excuse to get out of this conversation.

After a few seconds he concedes, “Sure…what do you want to know?”

“Well it’s pretty obvious you don’t want to be here, in fact you didn’t really even apply for the job, so why even go through the trouble?”

“Because I had to,” he answers honestly. He doesn’t offer the why. He figures that’s enough.

Dick cocks his head to the side, his feet swinging back and forth. He looks like a child instead of a grown man. “Because you’re mom made you right? Your parents cut you off or something?”

“Wha-” how the hell would he know that? Better yet, if he knows then why the hell did he ask? Tim’s borderline insulted. What the hell is this guy’s deal? He’s clearly a habitual boundary crosser. That’s obvious from the impersonal nicknames and the touching. He’s slightly immature, and Tim’s adding nosy and sneaky to the list too.

He stares at Tim, smirk drawn to his lips, waiting for an answer. It’s like he’s testing him and Tim’s never really been tested like this before. “Yeah, something like that.”

 _“Why?”_ The way he asks it reminds Tim of an irritating toddler, the kind that asks ‘why’ over and over again just to purposely bug the shit out of you. He’s starting to get the feeling that Dick likes pushing people’s buttons, and nobody’s probably ever stopped him before; being in the same company as Bruce Wayne affords you certain passes and indulgences. 

“I’m sure you know the answer to this question too, don’t you?”  

The older male just grins, “Maybe…but I want to see if you’re going to be honest with me.”

“This is a little much for my first day don’t you think? I mean we just met.”

“No, we’ve met before…or do you not remember?” he asks, seeming a little disappointed. So what if Tim didn’t remember, would he be upset? This guy is much too old to have such childish tendencies. How the hell does he manage to run a business?

Tim just rolls his eyes and ignores the latest question in favor of the previous one. There’s no point in lying because he knows Dick knows the answer. He’s not an idiot. His mom probably told Bruce, who probably told Dick last night. Janet Drake did always prefer to brag about Tim’s shortcomings rather than his achievements.

“I ugh…My parents had planned for me to go Gotham U and do this six year master’s program in business like my dad, but I guess it’s pretty prestigious. There’s only so many spots open and you have to apply and be accepted. I got into Gotham U, but they rejected me for the program. So they were pretty upset about it.”  

Dick nods, “I know the program. I actually just graduated from it in June.”

Of course he did. That would be just Tim’s luck.  

“You know you can reapply as a sophomore right?”

“I don’t think they really care. Besides my dad got accepted as a freshman and graduated in the top three of his class. Going in as a sophomore wouldn’t be good enough.” He’s not even sure why he’s offering up this information, but he hasn’t gotten a chance to talk to any of his friends about it yet. It does feel good to talk about it, even if it is with Dick Grayson of all people.

“ _So what happened then?_ ”

Tim leans forward onto the counter and rests his chin in the palm of his hand. He gazes briefly at the door and continues to pray for someone to come in. That’s probably the only way he’s going to get left alone. “What do you mean?”

“Why didn’t you get in?”

What the hell kind of question is that? He doesn’t choose who gets in or not. “I don’t know. I mean, I did everything right. I did well in the interview. I had nine letters of recommendation from professors, counselor, and even a few CEOs. I had a bunch of extracurriculars and community service. I’m a third generation legacy on both my parents sides and my family still donates to the school. Plus I’m literally the top of my class. I’ve never even gotten a B on my report card before. So, you tell me? All I got was a generic letter saying they rejected me.”

“Honestly, you probably should’ve gotten in on your family name alone.”

“That’s exactly what my dad said, but I didn’t, and he wasn’t very happy about it.”

“Well, _clearly_ ,” Dick says, pointing a finger at his own cheek. Tim narrows his eyes in confusion, before raising his hand to his cheek.

 _Oh_ … _that_. 

He just shrugs it off. No point in making excuses with him. It’s not like it’s a big deal or anything. He’s got bruises on his arms too, but Dick can’t see those through his long sleeve…or maybe he can, who knows with this guy.

“So they were so upset they cut you off and then you got stuck here?”

“Pretty much…but like I said, you already knew all of that, didn’t you?”

Oddly enough, Dick’s cheeks glaze over in a shade of bright red, “Well yeah, I listen in on Bruce’s phone calls sometimes when I’m around…the interesting ones at least.”

Oh great, so is that what this is about? Dick finds him and his pathetic sob story interesting? Now he’s probably never going to leave him alone; and if he doesn’t want to get fired and have his parent’s kick him out or something, he’s just going to have to deal with it. “So is there anything else extremely personal you’d like to know about me or…”

“Hmm…” he looks around aimlessly, “Got a girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Pets?”

“No.”

“Favorite color?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “I guess red is ni-can I ask _you_ something?”

Dick perks up noticeably, his body language shifting and his face beaming with excitement, “Yeah, go ahead.”

“So if you just got your Masters in business and your ugh, _dad_ , owns a billion dollar company, why are you working at a local bakery?” Tim can tell by the way Dick sighs that he was hoping for a more, _interesting_ question, something less business and more personal.

“Well, I’m only twenty-three. I went to college right out high school at seventeen and did the whole business thing. It wasn’t exactly _fun_. When Babs told me she was considering saving up to open a bakery I kind of jumped at the idea. She’s my friend after all, and this sounded a lot less boring than sitting in an office all day. Wayne Enterprises isn’t going anywhere and Bruce knows I’m not exactly, _ready_ to make that sort of commitment yet. I’m not ready to be tied down to a boring job and at least this way, I’m helping Babs, I’m not totally miserable, and I still get to make use of my degree until I’m ready or Bruce needs me.”

 _Well lucky him_ , Tim thinks bitterly…but then again it isn’t Dick’s fault that he didn’t get into the Gotham U Business Masters program. It’s his own.

“Anything else?” Dick asks, eagerly. Honestly that was the only thing Tim really cared about. It’s obvious that regardless of the reasons why he’s there, Dick really wants them to get along. He’s probably never been turned by anyone or for anything ever in his life.  

“Um…nope, not really.” As much as he’d just _love_ to ask him every personal question he can about his life, Tim’s got his own life to worry about and it’s probably got way more going on in it than Dick’s. Tim’s not even sure what he’s going to do with his life anymore. He’d been working towards this program through all of high school and he should’ve been a shoe-in but he was wrong.  

Exasperated, Dick rolls his eyes. So maybe Tim isn’t exactly begging to be his friend yet, but he’ll come around. “Well regardless of your unfortunate circumstances, Babs and I are both glad you’re here.”  

“Thanks…and I didn’t get a chance before, but thanks for the job too. I really appreciate it.”

“It was no problem. I figured you were more than qualified to work a cash register. We’re lucky to have you. Position’s been open for over a month,” he slides down from the counter with a smile and pats Tim’s shoulder before walking back towards the hall, “If you still want something to read, or have any questions, you know where to find me.”

“I’ll make sure to knock this time.”

Dick just laughs before disappearing down the hall.

* * *

 

It’s almost five and things are picking up a little once again. He’s sees about ten people that hour and it’s nice to have something to do for a while. Dick doesn’t come back out, in fact the only other worker he sees is Damian. He comes out to sweep the floors and wipe down some glass and the windows. He also makes a point to glare at Tim the entire time and mumble things under his breath. Tim’s pretty sure he doesn’t say anything nice.

The next person he sees is Barbara coming to check on him again, and he doesn’t mind that much at all. “How’s it going?”

“Not bad. Still managing.”

“That’s good. You seem to be doing well, you’re a fast learner. It’s almost six-thirty. You know you can take your lunch break at any time right?” He’s glad it’s not awkward after their encounter earlier.

He nods, “Yeah, but I’m okay. I tasted a bunch of stuff earlier and I’ll probably going to start up again here pretty soon.”

“Oh!” she brightens up considerably, “Did you like what you tried? What was your favorite?”

“The chocolate and peanut butter cupcakes were good and I really liked your German chocolate cake. The Boston crème pie was really good too.”

Barbara smiles and giggles a little to herself, “So I take it you like chocolate then?”

“Yeah, I may or may not have a weakness for it.”

“That’s good to know, I’ll keep that in mind.” With that, she disappears and once again Tim is left alone.

He goes through the second display case, keeping strictly to his one bite rule. This time he doesn’t slip up and he’s pretty proud of himself. It probably has something to do with the fact that he’s thinking about Barbara and not his parents or Gotham U while he does it.  

The rest of the night goes well. A group of teens comes in at one point and orders a bunch of stuff. It keeps Tim occupied. He sees a few more stray clients after that and then at seven, Barbara flips the sign on the door to ‘closed’.  

She wipes her brow with the back her hand and lets out a quick, “ _Woo!_ Not a bad day. So, what’d you think? It wasn’t too hard was it? You’re not going to quit on us are you?”

Ha, he wishes he was in a position too. Even though if nothing else, coming in everyday and seeing her is worth it. “Nope, at least not yet.”

“Good!”

“So…is there anything you need me to do? Like clean up or something?” He knows she’s likes them to be an hour early on weekends, but she didn’t say how long she needs them to stay after.

“Nope. Damian will handle that. As long as everything in the drawers adds up, you’re free to leave whenever. I think Dick wanted to see you before you left though.”   

Great, what could he possibly want? Tim nods and makes his way towards Dick’s office where he’s sitting at his desk, obviously waiting for him. He hopes this isn’t about to take long as he pauses in the doorway. He inhales deeply before saying, “Barbara said you wanted to see me?”

“Yeah, I just need you fill this out and a signature on this stub so that I can the bank deposit your checks right into your bank account.”

Okay, its business related. Tim can live with that. All he has to do is write down his account number and his full name. It’s fairly straight forward. “Is that all?” he asks, sliding Dick the stub.

“Yeap,” he smiles and Tim’s pretty sure he even winks, “See you tomorrow.”

“Um…y-yeah, see ya…”

As he walks down the hall, he briefly considers stopping in the kitchen to say bye to Jason and Damian, but decides against it. Something tells him that neither of them would be upset if he didn’t. They’d probably be pissed if he did.

He walks back out to the front where Barbara is standing at the counter, a white box in her hand with a ‘Barbara’s’ logo on it.

Tim waves as he walks past, “See you tomo-”

“Wait! Here, take this!”

He walks over, eyebrow raised and puts his hand on the lid. “What is it?”

“Open it!”

Tim complies, lifting the lid and seeing an array of chocolate desserts from the bakery sitting in it, including a healthy slice of German chocolate cake among other things. “Wh-”

“Consider it a ‘thank you’,” she adds. He nods, even though he didn’t really do anything worth being appreciated for. “We’ve been trying to fill this job for a month and you did great.”

“It wasn’t anything special.”

“Well fine, then consider it a payoff for not bringing up what you saw in Dick’s office earlier.”

“You still didn’t have to,” he laughs.

“Please, it’s no bother. Besides, there aren’t that many of us in total so employees eat free. You can pretty much help yourself to whatever you want at the end of the night.” 

He might as well not argue. They both know that he’s taking the box home. She’s practically insisting. If she wants to be nice, why not…well he can think of one major reason, but he did a pretty good job of controlling that all day. Eating a bunch of small samples doesn’t count as a binge right? It didn’t feel the same way a binge does so it can’t be the same. Besides, it’s not like he’s going to go home at eat it all at once.  

* * *

 

Tim pulls into the garage of his home and through the door into the house. He’s hoping to see neither of his parents on his way to his bedroom, but he isn’t that lucky. They’re sitting in the den fully dressed and reading when he walks in. He tries to walk past, but of course his mother doesn’t miss him.

“ _Timothy._ ” 

He stops dead in his tracks. He knows better than to keep walking. His mother sets her book down and looks at him, suspicion clear on her face. His father glances up and then proceeds to keep reading, as if he’s not even there. He doesn’t even say hi and Tim knows he isn’t going to. He’s still upset.

“So, how was your first day? You didn’t mess up did you or managed to get fired did you?”

“N-no, it was fine,” he stutters. God, his parents make him so nervous. He never wants to displease them, and he’s not sure why because they clearly consider him more of a burden than they do a son. Besides, nothing he ever does or says seems to appease them. He shouldn’t care or bother but he can’t help it.

“Good. You didn’t embarrass us did you…well no more than you already have at least?”  

It stings, but the wound is fresh. He knows he’s going to be getting comments like that for at least a few months, probably until after Christmas. He’s not going to live down being passed up for that program so he might as well just get used to.

“No.”

“Good. At least you managed to do that much. It’s nice to know you’re at least capable of simple tasks.” His father scoffs in agreement and that’s the most he’s acknowledged Tim since he walk in the door. “Well, your father and I are going out to an event tonight. The driver should be here in a few minutes, so don’t wait up for us. Magda left you some dinner in the kitchen or something if you’re hungry.”

He nods and heads towards the kitchen. He isn’t really hungry, he’s knows that, but suddenly he’s just in the mood to eat something, a lot of something.  

* * *

 

“No way, you walked in on it?” Stephanie laughs over the phone.

Tim’s lying down in his room with his phone to his ear and the box Barbara gave him resting open on his full stomach. He’s been picking at its contents as he relays his story to one of his best friends.  

“Yeah, it was awkward. She was straddling him. It was like something you’d expect to see in a soft core porn.”

“Ew! Don’t say that! Is she at least pretty? I mean this is _Dick Grayson_. He can have almost any girl he wants right?”

“She’s definitely pretty,” Tim confirms, “But just because they’re both good looking people doesn’t make it okay. I’m pretty sure if I hadn’t walked in, they were probably going to have sex on his desk.”

Steph laughs and so does he. This is the most relaxed he’s felt all day. At least with her he can be himself.

“So was that the only exciting thing that happened to you at work?”

“Pretty much,” he states. He’s already told her about most of his day. “It’s not bad. Jason and Damian are both kind of scary and didn’t really talk to me. Barbara is nice. She’s probably my favorite of the group. Dick is…he’s different.”

“Different like how?” Steph’s always sort of had a ‘Dick Grayson’ fascination. A lot of girls in Gotham do.

“I don’t know. He was just way too comfortable. First, he pretty much cat-called at me when I was changing. He kept smiling and touching me all day. He was calling me Timmy like we were best friends or something. He asked me some weird questions, like if I had a girlfriend and I’m pretty sure he winked at me before I left.” 

“Ha!” Stephanie snorts on her end, “It sounds like he likes you!”

Tim considers the outrageous comment for a second, before brushing it off, “Yeah, I doubt it. Like I said, he’s just strange. _Nice_ , but strange.” 

“Mhmm, sure. We’ll see.”

“Even if he did, Barbara’s more my type anyway.”

“Yeah, we’ll see what you’re saying after Dick Grayson charms you out of your pants. Next week, you’ll be the one on top of his desk.”

“Okay, and this is where we drop that subject.”

“Fine! Fine! But did you at least like the job for the most part?”

“It was alright. It’s not like I have a choice you know? At least it’s easy and I don’t imagine it’s going to get any harder.”

“Yeah, it is just a bakery and you don’t even have to bake,” says Stephanie.   

“Nope. This is essentially a business run by a bunch of rich kids with too much free time of their hands.”

“Oh, because you’re not some rich kid with too much time on your hands?”  

He rolls his eyes playfully, though she can’t see it. “It’s not the same.”

“Yeah right, but hey I have to go. I’ll talk to you again tomorrow alright? Maybe I’ll come visit you at your job?”  

“I’d actually enjoy that, but I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

He hangs up and suddenly he’s alone in his room. His parents are still out, not that he plans on interacting with them again tonight anyway. He could call Bart or maybe Conner, but they’re out. He would’ve gone, but after working tonight and knowing he has to go back tomorrow, he declined. Now he’s just lying on his bed, sticking his hand into-

into an empty box.

Did he really finish off everything in it? How the hell did he let himself do that, especially after eating this junk all day at the bakery _and_ coming home to dinner?

Tim sits up pushing the box off his lap, and feeling his stomach stretch uneasily. He feels swollen, uncomfortable, like he could maybe burst at any second, but it’s his fault for eating that much in the first place. It’s a weird feeling, but this whole problem is weird. 

At this moment, he’s definitely in pain, but at the same time he feels accomplished. That’s how it always starts in the beginning. Something shitty happens, usually involving his parents or in this case his parents _and_ the fact that he didn’t get in the Master’s program. He eats as an escape. It’s a distraction and the more, the better. It’s always way too much, too much for one sitting but he feels good about himself when it’s over. He _likes_ it. It’s comforting. Maybe his parents don’t really like him and they can be kind of cruel, but food isn’t ever like that. He eats, and he eats. Sometimes he doesn’t realize he’s doing it, but the end result is always the same. It makes him feel better.

At least until it doesn’t anymore.

Like when his parents start to notice or his clothes stop fitting the same and every bite makes him feel more and more ashamed of himself for letting it get this bad in the first place. That’ when the purging starts and suddenly he feels the urge to work out with every free minute he has in the day…but it pays off in the end and he’s back to being his regular size and his normal self. He takes pride in knowing he can control it, or so he thinks. He’s been doing this for about three years, since he was fourteen, and he hasn’t been caught so he’s doing something right.

It’s a vicious cycle…he knows that. Every time it starts back sooner and ends worse than the last, but it doesn’t stop him from doing it. It doesn’t make him go get help. Tim doesn’t think it’s that bad. He’s done well thus far. Nobody’s really suspect him of being a binge eater or a bulimic or anything. So as far as he’s concerned, he’s okay.

He’s sitting on the edge of his bed and yeah that’s two binges in two days. Maybe his stomach hurts, but he’s happy…

And that’s how the cycle usually begins.  


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! thanks for the feedback! I loved reading the reactions and comments :) they made me smile
> 
> This story is mostly touch and go right now. I dont have the whole thing planned out just yet. Thats the reason this chp took so long. I kept changing it around until i got where i wanted. While at first I intended this to be kind of slashy and have a lot relationship drama, I'm not sure how true that will be anymore. I do intend for there to be relationship drama (cuz i just like drama :D) im not as sure about the slash anymore. Im not ruling it out, but i cant say its very likely.
> 
> I can say that I always intended for dick to be a little slick and manipulative regardless, maybe a even a little OC-ish, so thats going to stay the same. I can also say that this is ultimately a Tim/Steph story. That much i know, for the rest youll just have to read and find out :)
> 
> anyways...

2

 

It’s about eight forty-five when he pulls into the bakery parking lot. He’s early, but he doesn’t mind because today he’s got a book with him. He learned from yesterday, so he’s a little more prepared.

He’s reading for maybe five minutes when a car pulls up next to his. It’s not Dick’s, not that he was expecting it to be and he’s happy about it. He isn’t exactly ready to deal with him just yet. Instead, Barbara gets out, taps on his window and waves. There’s no point in sitting out here by himself for ten minutes, especially when he could be spending time with Barbara, so he gets out of the car.

“Hi.”

“You’re early. Have you been sitting there long?”

He shrugs, following her inside. “Not long, like five minutes maybe.”

“You don’t have to show up that early. I honestly wouldn’t be upset if you didn’t show up exactly at nine. I’m used to being here alone. Besides, you’re just cashier; there probably isn’t anything for you to do anyway.” 

He figured as much, but he’s always been fairly punctual and honestly, he just wanted to get out the house before his parents woke up with Sunday morning hangovers. Barbara stands in front of him, pulling her hair into a ponytail and slowly preparing herself to head into the back. Though he doesn’t want to seem like a creep, Tim looks for a reason to stay in her company. “Well…do you need any help with whatever you’re about to do?”

She seems surprised and intrigued, “Um, well sure. I was just going to make some more brownies and start on a cupcake order that’s going to be picked up tomorrow. Do you know how to bake?”

“I can follow directions.” Baking probably isn’t that hard, but he’s never really tried. Sometimes Steph lets him lick the spoons when she makes stuff, but that’s only if Bart isn’t around to claim it first.

“Ha! I’ll take it. That’s more than Dick or Damian has ever offered. I think I like you better than them already. Come on,” she waves her hand and Tim follows her into the kitchen. She hands him an apron, which like everything else, sports the bakery logo. He throws it on over his shirt and waits for further instruction. 

“Alright, if could bring me three eggs and a carton of milk from the fridge?” she orders while staring at a purple clipboard. She’s gives him a bunch of trivial jobs after that, things that would be hard to mess up, like gathering ingredients for her and greasing pans. His mother would be proud of him.

While she’s putting things in the oven to bake, he starts washing dishes and suddenly he hears her cooing excitedly behind him. “I think I’m in love.”

If only.  “Huh?”

“You’re doing dishes willingly. I didn’t even have to fight you like I do with Damian. He feels like he’s too good to clean or something.” Tim got that feeling yesterday, along with several other ones – none of them being nice or particularly friendly feelings.

“Then why does he work here?” If Tim remembers correctly, Damian is a freshman and Gotham Academy, so that would make him about fourteen. He’s not old enough to get paid, not legally anyway. It’s not like he needs the money anyway.

“His dad makes him. He kept getting into trouble at school or something, so Dick told Bruce Damian could work here on weekends and afterschool, that way someone would be keeping an eye on him. That, and Dick says he has a false sense of entitlement that he’d like to break him out of.”

So his solution is to force him to do manual labor? If it works, then kudos to Dick, but the kid seems pretty set in his ways. As Babs falls in next to him, beginning to dry dishes, he asks, “Is it working?” 

“Ha!” she laughs, “Well, I’m pretty sure he still thinks he’s above all of us, but he doesn’t demean us as much anymore and he still does his job so I don’t complain.”

Since they’re on the subject, Tim figures he might as well go ahead and ask about Jason too. You can’t ever be too prepared, you know, just in case he does ever decide to talk to him. “What about Jason? He doesn’t exactly come off as any easier to get along with.”

Barbara nods slightly in agreement, “Yeah, although he’s actually not bad. He’s in school, but he works here part time mostly just to help out. I don’t think Dick would take no for an answer. I know Jason can seem a little intimidating, but he’s actually really cool when you get to know him.”

“And Dick?” 

“What about him?”

Tim tries to think of a good way to word his question. He knows Dick and Barbara are good friends so he doesn’t want to offend her. He just wants to know what else he should expect.

“Is he always so…you know, forward and like comfortable with new people?” 

She gives Tim a side glance, and notices just how uncomfortable he is. She’s not surprised. Dick has a way of doing that to people. “Nope,” she laughs as if she knows something that he doesn’t, “Only if he likes you.”

Xxx

Surprisingly, Sunday is a little more exciting than Saturday was. Tim sees several families come in together and he assumes they’re coming from church or heading to family dinners, but he doesn’t ask. He doesn’t really care enough to bother.

He’s reading behind the register, minding his own business and enjoying the downtime when Dick emerges from the hall. He hasn’t really been around to bug the teen yet, so he figures it’s about that time. 

“How you holding up?” he asks, leaning against the doorframe with his hands crossed over his chest. Tim knows it’s only his second day, but Dick and Barbara don’t really need to keep checking up on him…or at least Dick doesn’t. If Barbara wants to keep coming out here, Tim won’t stop her.

“Fine, there was a small rush earlier but it’s slowed down again now. I haven’t seen anyone in about forty-five minutes.”

Dick nods. Tim can tell he didn’t really care anyway. He probably just needed that as an excuse to bother him. He seems juvenile like that.

He walks over and stops behind Tim, “So what are you reading?” 

“Frankenstein,” he answers dryly, hoping the older male gets the hint, “I have to read it for my romantic lit class.” 

Dick opens his mouth to say something else, but the door opens and they’re interrupted by the sound of a petite blond squealing, “Tim! Hey! I told you I would stop in.”

While Tim noticeably perks up, Dick looks between the two of them curiously.

“Hey Steph,” he starts before remembering who’s behind him. He’s not particularly happy about it, but he knows Stephanie is going to get a kick out of it. He points behind him, “This is um, Dick. Dick this is Stephanie.”

He can see her eyes brighten up as she walks over to shake his extended hand. The older male flashes a hypnotizing smile that Tim is sure he’s practiced and gives to everybody he meets, “It’s nice to meet you.”

He wants to laugh at the way Steph blushes, but refrains. He doesn’t want to embarrass her too much. When her hand parts from Dick, she turns her attention back to Tim, “So how’s it going? What’s good around here? I want to try something.”

“Not too bad and everything’s pretty good. You’d probably like the shortcake,” he points to strawberry shortcake resting on top of the display case.

“Okay, let me get a piece of that then. When do you go on break? Is it soon?”

He actually hasn’t taken a break yet. He didn’t see much of a point since he wasn’t doing anything strenuous, but before he can answer Dick inserts, “Actually Tim’s dues for a lunch break right now. If you want, I can watch the register for you?”

“Y-yeah, sure,” he nods hesitantly before getting up and setting Steph’s cake on a pale yellow plate. He didn’t actually bring a lunch, so he cuts himself a piece of a chocolate crème cake and denies Stephanie’s card as she holds it out. It irritates her when he pays for her things, but he doesn’t mean it as an insult. It’s just the chivalrous thing to do. Besides, his parents haven’t cut off any of his credit cards yet so he might as well use them while he still can.

He pays for both, regardless of the fact that he technically eats free, and then slips away from behind the counter, leading Steph to a booth on the back wall. He notices her glance back at the register and laughs now that they’re some distance between them and Dick, “So is he anymore enamoring now that you’ve seen him in real life?”

She glances over with a red tint to her cheeks and puts on a mock fan-girl voice, “Are you kidding me? He touched my hand.” 

Playfully Tim rolls his eyes. Steph’s never exactly been guy crazy and he knows she isn’t in love with Dick either, but sometimes he likes to make fun of her when she talks about him or shows up reading the newest tabloid with his face on it. “I’m glad I could introduce you. I’m sure I’ll be seeing way more of you around the bakery then.”

“Duh, you’re the perfect excuse to come up here.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m an opportunist, there’s a difference,” she smiles before glances at Tim’s plate with a frown, “You’re just having cake for lunch?”

He shrugs, pushing a bite into his mouth, “Well I wasn’t really planning on taking a break so I didn’t bring anything. I had something before I came and I was just going to eat on my way home.” He knows he should eat three square meals a day and all that, but he doesn’t see the point. He’s going to get all of his calories one way or another.

She shakes her head in disapproval. “You should eat better.” She’s always telling him that but not because she knows. He’s done a good job of keeping that a secret from her. She just knows he has a certain affinity for junk food, and chocolate; and as long as he’s known her, she’s been trying to convince him to just be healthier in general. If she knew what he did behind closed doors, she’d probably be revolted. 

He brushes it off the same way he always does, “I’ll keep that in mind. So do you like it?” He motions his fork towards her shortcake.

“Yeah, it’s really good. How’s yours?”

“Well, you know how I feel about chocolate. You wanna taste it?” Steph just opens her mouth, which he knows as the sign for yes. They’ve shared food enough times in their life to know that. He grabs a piece with his fork and scoops it into her mouth waiting for her response. She moans in approval and for the next half hour they continue talking and laughing until Steph leaves and he figures he should relieve Dick of the register. 

“Thanks,” he offers as Dick stands up. The older male can’t help but notice the change in his attitude. He’s spent the last two days looking pretty much bored and indifferent so this is new.

“No problem.” Tim’s expecting him to leave, but of course he should know better after yesterday. Dick takes his usual seat atop the counter and raises an eyebrow.

“She was nice.”

“Yeah, Steph’s almost always like that.”

“And pretty cute,” he continues. At this Tim glances up, his eyes narrowing. Where exactly is Dick going with this? Tim is well aware of Steph’s small “crush”, but if he can help it, he would never let Dick anywhere near her. He’s read some of the things the papers say about him and a number of women. Besides, he’s in some sort of weird friends with benefits relationship with Barbara. Stephanie’s been through enough in her short life, she definitely doesn’t need that.

After a second Dick smirks, but it’s oddly malicious, “I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?” 

“I-I don’t,” he stammers. Of all the things Dick could’ve said, he wasn’t expecting that. 

“Hmm, really? It’s just you two seem close?” They seem more than close. Dick saw the way the interacted. Tim even fed her.

Yeah, they are close, though maybe not as close as Dick and Barbara. Tim can gladly say that neither him nor Stephanie have ever crossed or even slightly blurred the lines of their friendship and he likes that. “We’ve been friends for a long time, nothing else.” 

“Oh, well I was just asking. She seemed like a nice girl was all. I was surprised.”

Tim takes in a deep breath and exhales. He shouldn’t ask, but if he doesn’t Dick will leave it at that and he’ll have no idea what the hell he means. Tim just has to make sure he and Dick are on the same page. He’s definitely the kind of guy who will continue to cross lines if you don’t set boundaries. “Surprised about what?”

“Just that you two weren’t together. Does she have a boyfriend?”

“Why?” Tim finally asks, a little more bass in his voice than probably necessary. “Why do you care so much?”

Dick purses his lip and shrugs almost too non chalant for Tim’s liking. He’s getting a kick out of seeing him riled up. Seeing the teen convey any kind of real emotion is pretty entertaining. He smiles, before sliding off the counter to leave, “I don’t, not really. I was just making conversation.” 

XXx

Dick stresses Tim out. 

And he’s got every intention of continuing to do so, that’s clear. It’s only been two days and he’s not sure why the older male gets under his skin so much, but he just does. He’s pushy, arrogant, nosy and Tim isn’t sure what anyone could see in him other than the fact that the guy does have supermodel good looks. That can only get you so far though. 

Whether or not Dick bugs him, it’s five-thirty and Tim’s off so he’s happy. Everything seems right with the register and Barbara said that they didn’t need any help cleaning up so he’s on his way. Or at least he thinks he is until he sees Dick outside digging in his car. He hopes he can slip by unnoticed, maybe get off with a wave as he drives out of the parking lot, but that’s out of the question. 

Tim’s got his hand on the door handle when Dick pops up and cocks his head to the side, “Leaving already?”

He closes his eyes in defeat and lets out a frustrated sigh. He was so close.

“I’m off.” 

“Doesn’t mean you can’t stick around for a few minutes; maybe talk with us or something. It’s only five thirty-six. It just seems like the last two days you’ve looked like you can’t wait to get out of here.” 

Yes and no. Tim likes Barbara. He’s pretty indifferent about Damian and Jason, and he’s pretty sure they feel the exact same way about him…but Dick, he’s tolerable. That’s it. Tim is willing to put up with him only because he has too. Once he’s off work, he feels like he shouldn’t be required to anymore.

“Oh, um…sorry?” He’s not sure what to say. If he says what he’s thinking, he might upset Dick or something. He doesn’t want to do that, not only because he’s one of his bosses, but because he might actually hurt his feelings. The guy hasn’t done anything to deserve that. He’s just annoying.

“You don’t have to apologize. Is it the job?”

He has no idea why he feels bad all of a sudden, but the way Dick is looking at him likes he done something wrong is getting to him. He’s a manipulator and he’s good at what he does. “No, the job is fine. I ugh…I just want to get home is all.”

“Okay,” he says, as if he’s just cutting Tim short, like he doesn’t believe him.  

The rational part of his mind is telling him to just go ahead and leave, but now that he’s clearly upset Dick, the big child that he is, Tim feels like he should rectify the situation. “Look, I didn’t mean anything by the way I’ve been acting. If you want me to sta-”

“No, it’s fine. You’re new and we’re not even-I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

There’s a silence, an awkward silence as Tim let’s out on a long sigh. He’s not sure how this whole job thing works, but he’s pretty sure you’re not supposed to hurt your boss’ feelings on the second day. Being friends with them probably isn’t a requirement either, but now he wishes he would’ve just stuck around for an extra five minutes to placate the guy.

Finally Dick closes his car door, a disappointed look on his face, “Well I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then. You should probably know that we’re closing early next Saturday for Gotham’s General’s Annual Charity Gala.”

Tim nods. He knows about it. The doctors and benefactors of the hospital throw it in the beginning of every school year to raise money for destitute sick kids. He goes every year with his parents so they can look like the perfect, happy family as they donate money to something he knows they don’t even care about.

“Are you going to be there?”

Tim nods again, and he’s pretty sure he sees a slight smile come to Dick’s previously disappointed face, “Well, I guess I’ll see you there then.”

One second he’s upset, next he’s smiling just because they’re going to see each other for extended time next weekend. Like Tim said, this guy’s stressful.

Xxx

“I love your new job,” Steph states over the phone. Tim’s got it between his shoulder and his ear as he walks around his room looking for a pair of sweats to change into.

“Is it my job you like? Or is it my boss?”

“Maybe some of both…no, mostly your boss. He was even cuter in person than he is in the papers.”

He laughs, “I’m sure he’d love the compliment. He said you were cute after you left.” He doesn’t approve but throws it in only because he knows it’ll make her day, maybe even her life.

“No way? He did? Tim, don’t mess with me.”

“He did, I promise.”

“What were his exact words?” He’s opened a Pandora’s Box, he thinks as he rolls his eyes.

“Um…Something along the lines of you were nice and pretty cute.” 

“Oh my gosh, that’s awesome. Think I have a chance?”

“I don’t know. Besides, he’s twenty-three, a little old don’t you think?”

“I’d be willing to try,” she jokes on the other end. “Oh well, he thinks I’m cute. That’s good enough for me.”

Tim’s never actually understood why girls put so much emphasis on things like looks and validate themselves based on what other people think of them, but he doesn’t question it. He just knew Steph would get a kick out of hearing that. He’s probably boosted her self-esteem by several hundred percent just mentioning it, even though she really doesn’t like him. He’s just someone to joke about.

“Did he harass you anymore today?”

“Of course, but he didn’t want anything. He never wants anything.”

“Sounds to me like he just wants to be your friend.”

“I don’t know why? I’m not even interesting. Besides, I have friends. I don’t have any open slots, unless maybe Barbara wants to fill one.”

“I think you want her as more than that,” she giggles.

“I wish.”

“Yeah, you’ve got a better chance with Dick anyway,” she says only because she knows it will irritate him. 

Tim rolls his eyes and drags out a long sigh, “Why are we friends?”

“Because you love me and I’m probably the only one of our friends who’s going to listen to you bitch and moan about you ‘oh so irritating’ job every night.”

“Fine.”

XXX

“So now you’re just like the rest of us, huh?” Bart says, ruffling his shirt. He’s never really been one for tucking his shirt into his pants. But if he wants to keep his track scholarship at Gotham Academy, he has to abide by the rules.

“Yeah I guess, but at least you’ve got track to pay your way through college next year. I’m not exactly sure what I’m going to do. This job is cool, but it’s not going to pay for tuition, let alone books or room and board or anything.”

They’re standing by Tim’s locker about an hour before school ends. Unlike Steph and Conner, they both have a free period at the end of the day. While he’s busy shoving books into his bag, Bart’s just standing there with his empty backpack draped over one shoulder. Not only is he the fastest sprinter and long distance runner Gotham has, but he’s got a ridiculous memory. He can read something and almost remember every detail. He’s just lucky like that. 

“So apply for a scholarship or something.”

“Missed the deadline.”

“Go somewhere else.”

Both are good, logical suggestions, but neither exactly work for Tim. “It’s a little late in the game for that. I only applied there because I pretty much thought I was guaranteed. Besides, I think my parents really want me to go to GU because it’s where everyone in the family went.” 

Bart sighs and rolls his eyes as they start walking down the hallway towards the parking lot, “I don’t get it then. Why would they just cut you off after your senior year if you obviously still need them? Maybe it was a bluff or something?”

“I doubt it.” 

Bart frowns a little. As long as they’ve been friends, he doesn’t know much about Tim’s parents. He’s met them a few times, and they seem nice, but Tim never really has anything nice to say about them. He doesn’t have much to say about how they act at all. For Tim’s sake, he hopes that they’re kidding, but he couldn’t officially make that call either. He knows that Tim’s taking this better than he, or any of their other friends would, at least on the outside. Bart can’t say he’d be able to pull himself out of bed in the morning if he knew in less than a year he’d go from being spoiled rich to totally on his own with nothing but his name. Tim’s resourceful and all, but he can’t live like that. He’s never had to. Clearly though, the realization hasn’t actually hit him yet.

They’re standing beside Tim’s car, which Bart assumes his parents will be keeping when and if his friend decides to go to college. “Geez dude…that fucking sucks. I don’t understand how you didn’t get into the stupid program, but I’m sorry you didn’t.”

He shrugs casually, as if it doesn’t bother him anymore. If Bart knows Tim as well as he thinks he does, which is fairly well, inside this is totally stressing him out. He’s just trying to save face.

“It’s fine. I’ll figure something out and I guess I do have this job to help me out a little.”

“How’s that going?” Bart may not be loaded like Tim’s parents, but his workout schedule has never really left time for things like jobs. He’s not upset about it in the least.

“Alright. I have to do it, so it doesn’t really matter if I like it or anything. Barbara, one of my bosses, is pretty hot. Dick is a little different though.”

Bart knows Dick. He lives with his cousin Wally here in Gotham, who moved here and met Dick in college. They became close almost instantly and they hang out together a lot. Sometimes he’ll come by the apartment but he’s never really been all that exciting to Bart. He’s just another one of Wally’s friends. “Yeah, he’s takes a little getting used to, but he’s alright I guess.”

“Something like that, but I’ll see you later alright? I’ve got a stop to make before I get to work.”

“That’s cool. I’ve got to some stuff to take care of before practice anyway. We’re running five miles today, should be a breeze. I ugh…I hope everything works out.”

Tim waves as Bart jogs off and gets in his car. They could’ve talked longer, because it’s not like his stop in necessary, not really. It’s just after the looks Bart was giving him or hearing the tone of pity in his voice, Tim’s suddenly feeling a lot worse about himself and his situation than he was before. Tim’s probably living the most privileged life of all his friends and if they feel bad for him, it must be a lot worse than he already thought.

XXX

“Can I get three double cheeseburgers, two large fries, a ten piece nugget, a large root beer and six cookies,” he says, sitting at the drive thru of a McDonalds up the street from his job. He’s got time he can kill before he has to be at the bakery and he could use a pick-me-up after talking with Bart. The usually cheerful, carefree kid has suddenly got him thinking way too much and feeling way too down. If Bart thought his situation was unfortunate, it probably was. 

Tim pulls up to the window, handing the woman one of his credit cards. He’s handed his drink first, and he can see the drive thru clerk eyeing his car. She’s probably wondering why there isn’t another person in there if he ordered this much. It’s none of her business honestly, but he doesn’t say anything. He just takes his bags and drives to the bakery, parking in the back where none of his co-workers are likely to stumble upon him as he eats in his car.

This isn’t the first time he’s ever done this. There’s a few times he remembers last year, when things were particularly bad or stressful, that he would grab something on the way home, eat it in the driveway and then go inside and have dinner. He’s used to eating alone in his car. It’s weird at first, maybe even a little pathetic and disappointing too, but after his upbringing, he’s used to feeling both of those things.  

He reads while he eats. It’s almost sick how casual he looks as he eats twice as much as a person his size should in one sitting. A passerby might almost think it was normal. It doesn’t take him long to finish. By now, he’s worked up a pretty good pace when it comes to these things. When you’re trying to hide it from people, you have to be good about it. He finishes with about ten minutes to spare before he’s supposed to start working. His stomach hurts and Tim wants nothing more than to sit in his car and take a nap, but he has to go in. His parents would probably murder him if he didn’t.

 If nothing else, he does feel better. It’s almost like he’s on a high. He’s happier than an hour ago. He’s more relaxed and feeling less stressed out and depressed. The meal was comforting and at least until he gets off, he’ll be able to focus on something other than the rejection letter he got from Gotham U or his parents cutting him off. It’s just an all-around euphoric sort of vibe. He imagines this is what alcoholics feel after a drink, or an addict feels like after doing drugs…except maybe on a larger scale, because it’s just food.

He takes a deep breath, or at least as much of breath as he can manage when he’s this full, and reaches his arm into the back seat to grab a shirt for work. He swaps shirts and shoes, for a pair of black converse he has in the back. Then he takes his trash and balls it up, throwing it in the back seat of his car.

Tim stands, careful not to move to fast, and lethargically drags his feet towards the doors of the bakery. He feels stuffed, but he likes the feeling. It’s better than the shit he’s been feeling lately. Though walking is kind of uncomfortable right now, once he gets to his post, he’ll be fine. If today is anything like the last two days, he won’t be busy anyway.

XXX

“Everything alright with you today?” Barbara asks, flipping the sign from ‘open’ to ‘closed’. “Damian said you looked tired while he was cleaning.”

Tim’s sitting on his chair, his chin resting atop his arms on the counter. He raises his eyebrows skeptically. He can’t see Damian saying something so…nice about him. The only thing he’s heard him say the past two days have been insults. He gets the feeling to kid doesn’t like him much.

“Well, he might have said something more along the lines of lazy and incompetent, but I wouldn’t say all that. You just look a little worn out.”

Yeah, well stuffing your face right before you walk into work will do that to you. Tim found himself feeling sluggish the entire time and of course today there was actually a rush of people, or well teenagers. It seems an abundance of high school and college age kids like to come in after classes and grab something. He figured weekdays would be slower than weekends but obviously not. 

“Oh, sorry. I just had a long day at school,” he lies. It’s just a lot easier to lie. It’s better than saying what he was really doing. They wouldn’t understand. 

Barbara frowns, looking sympathetic. He likes the look on her, at least when it’s directed towards him. She walks to the counter, leaning forward and probably unaware that at his angle, Tim can totally see down her shirt. To be polite, he sits up, despite the fact that he’s still pretty uncomfortable from earlier.

“Would a piece of fresh triple chocolate cake make you feel better?”

He winces slightly. Of course he wants it, but he knows he shouldn’t. It’s the last thing he needs. He knows better, but that’s never stopped him before. He always knows better and he does it anyway.

“Oh come on,” she begs, brushing her hand down his arm, “I was just about to have one, join me?”

Finally he gives in. He’s still got this under control. So he’s binged a few times, no big deal. It’s not going to get any worse than this. He’s is not going to let it get out of hand this time, no matter what’s going on in his life. “Alright, sure.”

A smile beams across her face, and he’s kind of mad that Barbara doesn’t really even have to try to get him to concede like that. Between her looks and the chocolate, it was practically inevitable. He watches her as she comes behind the counter and cuts one slice instead of two, “I thought we could share. Less dishes.” 

He just nods and follows her to a booth, sitting down across from her. She hands him a fork and takes the first bite, “Mmm…this is good. Jason made it.”

Tim forks a piece into his own mouth and it practically melts on contact. “Oh wow, he’s this good?”  

“Yeah, you’d be surprised. This is actually his recipe. He’s got a few things of his own on display and sometimes his butler gives him a recipe to come in and share. He’s got a real knack for it.” 

The teen would’ve never guessed. He figured Jason was an assistant at best, maybe doing the same things Barbara had him doing yesterday morning. He didn’t think Jason would actually be this good. His cake is amazing. Tim regrets ever tasting it because now he doesn’t want to stop. 

“I wouldn’t have thought. I haven’t really talked to him much yet.”

“Yeah, he and Damian aren’t the easiest people to get along with at first. It’s just because you’re new. They’ll get used to you. They have to, because I like you too much to let you go anyway.”

His cheeks start to get a little hot as she smiles at him. “That’s ugh, good to know.”

“Yeah it is. You can feel comfortable knowing that you have job security here after only three days. You should be proud of yourself.”

He almost wants to laugh. He should be proud of himself for this? If only life was that simple. Tim’s pretty sure he could cure cancer and his parents still wouldn’t be proud of him. They’d probably just ask why he hadn’t cured AIDs too. 

Looking down, he sees that they’re about half way done. Well technically, he was done before they started honestly, but he keeps eating so that Barbara isn’t eating by herself. 

She slides a piece of cake into her mouth before cocking her head to the side, “So I know it’s only been three days, but are you liking it so far?”

He feels oddly comfortable with Barbara. She’s easy to talk to, but that might not mean much. Dick is kind of easy to talk to too and Tim hasn’t decided whether he’s a fan of him or not yet. He takes a forkful of cake to his mouth, frosting grazing the side of his lips slightly “Yeah. It’s pretty straight forward and easy. I’m not going to quit or anything.” 

An almost Dick-esque smirk comes to her face and reaches out, brushing her finger over the frosting on his lip and bringing it to her mouth, “Well, that’s good to know.” 

He’s cheeks are getting redder and hotter, to the point where he has to look away so she won’t see what she’s doing to him. It’s as he’s blushing stupidly and they’re sharing this moment and this cake, that he just has to look towards the back that he sees Dick standing in the doorway watching them…

And he hasn’t seen that look before on him, but Tim’s pretty sure Dick isn’t happy. 

Xxx

Come Friday, Tim’s got the hang of the weekday afterschool rush. It isn’t bad anymore and like every other day, it’s just a breeze and easy money. He still hasn’t made any real contact with Damian or Jason, though Damian still mutters insults about him being incompetent or unnecessary whenever he and Tim are in the same room, so that isn’t really new. What is however, is the fact that Dick hasn’t seemed to bother him much at all this week. He hasn’t stopped in every hour on the hour like he was Tim’s first few days. He hasn’t bugged him much at all, so when Barbara continues to ask him to spend time with her at the end of each day laughing and splitting a dessert, he doesn’t decline. Why not? He likes spending time with her. She’s nice and she’s gorgeous. It’s always a win. At least it is until Friday night when Tim goes to leave after he and Barbara finish up.

Tim’s got his hand on the door, ready to walk out of the bakery. Barbara’s taken their plate back to be washed and he thought he was going to slip out unnoticed. He should’ve known better. He can’t remember the last time he got what he wanted.

“So it’s just me you don’t want to hang out with after work, or ever, huh?”

Reluctantly he turns around. He’s tired he just wants to go home. This isn’t a good time. “What? Why does it matter? Did I hurt your feelings or something?”  

Dick is only a few feet in front of him when he turns around. He’s got his hands in his pockets and just lets out a short laugh, “I’m not sure what you think of me Timmy, but my feelings aren’t bruised that easily.” 

Is he kidding? Tim can swear he looked hurt the other day when he refused to stick around and talk to him. As far as he’s concerned, Dick is immature and he’s letting his personal feelings get in the way of their non-existent friendly relationship.  

“So what is this about then? Barbara?” Maybe he’s just incredibly territorial? Not that there’s a reason to be. Barbara isn’t interested in Tim, he doesn’t think. They’ve been sharing some pastries after work. So maybe he has a small crush of her, but it doesn’t matter because clearly she and Dick are interested in each other regardless of their “just friends” status.

“No, this isn’t about Barbara; though it’s completely obvious you’re interested in what I have.” 

Tim isn’t sure what to make of the direction this conversation is taking. Dick doesn’t look or sound mad, or even upset, but somehow his words are suggesting something completely different. 

“Okay, look I’m sorry for whatever I did to you but-”

Dick slants his head and shrugs as if he has no idea what Tim is going on about, “But what?” 

“But I’m not here to make friends, hang out or whatever else okay? I’m just here to work a cash register and I think the line between co-workers and friendship is getting really blurry really fast. I’m not sure if I offended you or-”

“You know I did you a favor, right?” 

Tim’s taken back. Dick just cuts him off and that’s what he says. It’s like he’s holding it over his head suddenly. Is he really this upset because he didn’t stick around the other night to hang out with him? It can’t be that serious. He can’t be this childish.

“Um yeah, and like I said before, I totally appreciate that.” 

“So act like it.”

“Uh…” This might be the most confusing conversation with most confusing person he’s ever had. It’s almost as stressful as being around his parents, but at least his parents are straight forward. He’s not sure what Dick is trying to get at or what he’s upset about but Tim’s starting to feel like he’s being challenged and he doesn’t like it much. “What is this about? Because I don’t think you’ve made that clear and I’m not sure if we’re even close to being on the same page.” 

He’s trying to be civil, but he’d much rather tell Dick to fuck off. So because he doesn’t want to be his new bestest friend or something, the guy’s going to pull rank over him? He’s lucky that he’s his boss or Tim would really speak his mind.

“I’m pretty sure you understand what I’m saying.”

“If you’re telling me that you’re jealous because I spent some time with Barbara instead of you, then yeah I totally get what you’re saying, but you can’t tell me what I can and can’t do or who I can and can’t hang out with.”

Dick rolls his eyes and lets out a condescending laugh, “I can’t?” 

Tim narrows his eyes as Dick continues.

“I’m just saying…I’m pretty sure you need me more than I need you. It’s not like I don’t have options. I could give your job to Damian if I wanted. But then where would that leave you? I mean, your parents would be pretty upset if you lost your job right, a job as easy as this that was pretty much handed to you. Haven’t you screwed up enough?”

The younger teen opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything at first. He’s almost awestruck. After a second of gathering his composure and getting over the fact that Dick sounds just like his parents he asks, “Are you threatening me?”

“No, I don’t have to threaten you. I’m just stating facts. Your parents are cutting you off. You needed a job. I gave you a job. Yes, while this place is technically called Barbara’s, who do you think paid for everything and handles all of the money? Me. So it would behoove you to stay on my good side, wouldn’t it? Unless you want to disappoint your parents more than you already have.”  

Tim wants to say something. He honestly wants to hit Dick, but he can’t. This guy has a point. He does need Dick more than Dick needs him. That’s obvious. At any moment, regardless of Barbara’s input apparently, he could let Tim go and God only knows what his parents would do to him after that. His dad still hasn’t looked at him the same since he got his non-acceptance letter last week.

As much as he doesn’t want to say it, at this point Tim almost needs Dick to like him; and he at least has to pretend to like Dick. Maybe he should’ve been pretending from the beginning?

“I don’t understand what you want from me…” he finally says, letting out a sigh of submission. This entire conversation has totally caught him off guard and dampened his mood, especially because Dick’s winning; but what can Tim do? He’s not the one holding the cards. He’s the one with the most to lose.

“I don’t want anything from you Timmy. Maybe you haven’t noticed yet, but there isn’t much you can give me that I don’t already have. I’d like for us to get along though, and for you to stop treating me like you’re better than me or something,” he states, “Because you’re not.”

He’s not sure whether or not that’s meant to be an insult, but all Tim can do at this point is nod. He would’ve never imagined that Dick has this side to him, but then again there’s probably a lot he doesn’t know about him. He did graduate with a master’s in business and Tim would’ve never in a million years guessed that. He would’ve never expected encounter this to happen and it did…he also didn’t expect to not get into the Master’s program and that happened.

He should probably just stop expecting things.

“I…um…well if that’s it, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?” This is awkward, like ridiculously so. The only thing he wants to do is get off this property and as far away from Dick Grayson as possible, which really isn’t that far because they live fairly close to each other. Either way, not being able to see him is good enough.

While he doesn’t exactly have a firm grip on what just happened, Tim does know one thing. This isn’t his game, its Dick’s, and he’s obviously going to have to play by his rules if he even wants to have a chance at finishing. Not winning – because that’s definitely not going to happen. He’ll just be happy if he can make it through the rest of the year without being let go.

“I won’t be in tomorrow actually. I’ll be busy with Bruce, getting ready for the event,” his voice is pretty level and plain up until this point, but then he’s smiling and offering a slight wave, “I’ll see you there.”

Tim can’t get out of there any faster. He opens the door and leaves, getting into his car. Before he can gather the composure to actually pull off, he finds himself gripping the wheel with his hands.

What the fuck just happened?

It’s like one second he was fine and he thought everything was working out, then the next everything is going to shit. He still has no clear idea what he did to upset Dick, but he wishes he’d never done it whatever it is. This definitely wasn’t worth it, not if being at work is going to be just like being at home. He has enough on his plate with trying to please his insatiable parents. He doesn’t need the extra stress of trying to please Dick too…but he can’t do anything about it. He’s managed to dig himself into a hole that wouldn’t even be beneficial to dig himself out of. He hadn’t known who he was dealing with and now he was just as screwed as he was before. So much for an easy job…

After several minutes replaying what had just happened in his head, he finally pulls off. His intention was to drive home but he doesn’t end up there. This will be the second time this week. It’s starting to add up, become more frequent, just like it always does before it starts to get bad.

He turns into a parking lot, pulling into an all too familiar path and stopping next to a menu he’s probably seen thousands of times. A voice comes up and asks him how he’s doing, but he doesn’t bother to give them a real answer. He’s not there for friendly conversation.

He can’t do anything to Dick, so he does it to himself instead.

“Yeah, can I get…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments? preferably nice ones ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> got a message regarding this story on the last chp and i just thought u guys would be interested in the response just in case any of you were feeling to same way. i wont post the original message but it was mostly addressing things like Dick and why his character i so strange and the fact that tims parents werent really abusive.... 
> 
> To BecauseImBatman   
> Hi  I got your comment and I really wished I could’ve like PM’d you or something but I at least felt like you took the time to read my story and write this so I should def. respond. Plus I’m sure you’re not the only person feeling this way.   
> Trust me, I knew I was going to get this comment eventually about dick’s character lol I was just waiting for it. I love dick as much as the next person and I know in this story his character is a little strange. I’ve tried to write him closer to character for my Wally stories, but in those I also use him differently. I know he’s a lot more complex than just a pretty face or the paparazzi’s pretty boy, for sure. I’ve always tried to do as much research as possible on every character I take interest in but when I was kind of thinking up this story, Dick worked best for the kind of conniving playboy character that I needed to butt heads with Tim. Of course this is an AU, so I took liberties so in this Dick is kind of like that type cast character in movies, the arrogant rich kid, but there’s reason for that. And Dick has friends, he doesn’t need any or anything, you’ll see later that he’s actually fairly popular. Dick is still his usual, loving, charming self…just not towards Tim. That’s partially because they come from the same circle, so he doesn’t have to impress him or act differently towards him, if you get what saying? Part of it has to do with Tim’s family and there’s also some other plot reasons I’m working on that haven’t come out yet to show why dick is the way he is towards Tim specifically.   
> But essentially at this point, Dick seems weird, because he’s (for a lack of better words) fucking with Tim and he’s doing things he’s sure will bother Tim specifically, but it comes off like Dick is strange because from this story is mostly from Tim’s perspective and as far as Tim’s concerned, Dick is just this really irritating, really weird, spoiled idiot and so that’s how you’re supposed to see him too. But trust me when I say Dick is smart and always working an angle, he knows exactly what he’s doing and why he’s doing it.   
> I also know that Tim’s parent weren’t abusive, but well none of the other robins I wanted to use or really had parents anyway…plus on young justice Tim came off as a little insecure at first and that’s why I wanted to use him for this story. I needed his parent’s to be super assholes to kind of show why he’s the way he is, because in this story it’s pretty much their fault. Dick isn’t the main villain of the story, the parents are. Though Tim isn’t totally innocent in all of this, which you’ll see later  
> With this said, thanks for the compliments  I’m glad you like my work and Decisions, but I wrote two wally stories and I just really wanted to try new characters and an AU where I could play around with some stuff, so this is all like new for me and just touch and go you know? I appreciate the time you took to write this and I hope I answered you well enough and that I didn’t sound harsh myself or anything. I’m sure a lot of people are wondering what’s going on with dick and its hard, because I know what’s going on with him in my head but it’s too early in the story to reveal yet :/ If you stick around ‘til the end, I’ve got some pretty good drama planned. I just hope you can manage to bear with me through all the craziness, because this is a drama, so I do intend for it to get a little crazy…but all in a good way  
> 
> Anyways, heres the new chp. Not a lot of bakery action, but some some interactions with Jason and damian this chp  so yay just in case any of you were wondering when and how they would come into play. Here’s just the beginning. I hope things aren’t moving too slow for you guys, but if they are please feel free to say something in the comments   
> I do not own young justice

3

The last thing he wants to do is go to work, whether he gets off early or not. After last night’s conversation with Dick, Tim’s not sure if he even wants to work there anymore. The guy totally flipped out on him. He even told him that his job could easily be given to Damian at any time. How is Tim supposed to feel comfortable after hearing something like that?

The only thing that makes his day a little better is knowing that he won’t have to see Dick during work hours because he won’t be around. He won’t be forced to have an awkward conversation with him or feel like he has to apologize again for whatever it is that he did. He won’t have to see the older male again until tonight and if he’s lucky, he’ll totally be able to avoid him there too. It shouldn’t be hard. He’s gone to tons of these things and hardly ever had to talk to Dick Grayson. Unless Dick personally seeks him out tonight, he should be fine.

* * *

 

Tim stares out the window of his parent’s car, dreading the next few hours. He’s never really been a fan of these events; but as much as they’d probably like to, his parents never let him stay home. His father still hasn’t made an effort to say much of anything to him and Tim’s starting to wonder if he’s ever going to talk to him again. His mother however, is running through the same rules she always does before they go to an event. They’ve been doing this for years. He’s pretty sure he’s got it down by now...  

“And don’t talk to anyone who doesn’t talk to you first.”

“Mhmm.”

“Don’t touch or break anything.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Make sure to say Timothy when you introduce yourself, not Tim or whatever else you have people call you these days.”

“Got it.”

“Don’t say any more than what’s asked of you. We don’t need you babbling and saying something stupid. Don’t bother us if you see us talking with anyone unless we call you over specifically and most important-”

“Don’t embarrass you. I know mom.”

Janet Drake looks over the seat and gives her son the once over. As she straightens his black bow tie, she adds, “And tries to refrain from calling us mom or dad if at all possible. It sounds too informal, like we don’t have control of you or something. Mother and father are far more appropriate.”

That rule is new. Sometimes she does that though, declares a new one if she thinks of it. Tim just complies, it’s easier.

“Okay.”

A few moments later they’re pulling in front of grand looking building downtown and his father is handing the valet his keys. There’s an over-abundance of bright lights and people in red carpet style attire. Tim generally wears black and white. It’s always a classic for him, but the women are incredibly extravagant, his mother included. They take this as a chance to show off –who’s got more money, who’s more attractive, and anything else you can compare with just a glance. Tim’s seen some pretty cute girls go all out at these things, but most of them go to his school, so when it’s all said and done, he could honestly care less.

They walk in and it’s just like any other event, it’s showy and over the top. The room is huge and glowing a soft gold with red accents. There’s the usual band playing low ambiance music in the corner. There’s plenty of overly decorated tables for people to sit at plus tables upon tables of food, an area that’s set off for dancing, and the stage in the back where someone will probably thank them all for coming at some point later in the night. Tim’s looking forward to that part because it means it’s almost over and he can stop pretending he actually wants to be here.

The beginning always starts the same – he walks around with his parents as they greet people until they tell him to go away. He sees several people he recognizes like the mayor and other people who work at his father’s company. They say their ‘hello’s’ and keep moving. Everything is going fine until they run across a group of socialites standing in the middle of the room. Tim’s familiar with most of them like The Belmonts, who have a family history in banking; or Mrs. Frontonac who has an affinity for diamonds and wears hundreds of thousands worth to all of these events and Peter Savage, whose family help found the city, along with several others. All of whom are rich and most of which are arrogant.

Tim assumes this is the part where his parents are going to tell him to leave, but then he hears someone in the group call his name.

“Timothy Drake! How are you doing? I haven’t seen you since the last event,” Mrs. Frontonac says to him. 

He smiles at her politely, not saying much other than that for fear of pissing his parents off. They’re standing on either side of him, forcing smiles on their faces but cringing on the inside he’s sure.

“Yes, it has been a while,” Peter Savage states with mock interest, “I heard you applied to the Master’s program at Gotham U through a friend on the committee. Following in the Drake family footsteps I see. Have you gotten your letter back yet?”

Jack and Janet both stare back at Peter and he has a look on his face like he wants to laugh. It doesn’t take a genius to know what he’s doing. Tim picked up on it the moment he opened his mouth. Peter knows he didn’t get in, _obviously_ – he has a friend on the committee. He probably just wants to embarrass him or his parents or both, these people are petty like that. Tim finds that a lot of his parents “friends” aren’t big fans of his anyway, given that he outshines most of their kids and family members at Gotham Academy quite easily. It’s like it’s always a competition at these things.

He takes a deep breath before answering, “Yes, I actually got my letter back last week. I wasn’t accepted.”

Without being noticed, his mother slips her hand into has and slowly begins to dig her freshly manicured fingernails into the skin of his hands.  

Mrs. Belmont is the next to speak, artificial sympathy spread all over her face, “Oh really? But my kids tell me you’re at the top of you class, how unfortunate. My oldest applied and got his acceptance letter just the other day.”

Of course Tim already knew this. He’s in the same class as her oldest son. He’s essentially an idiot and one of those kids who would never make it in life if they didn’t have their family name to fall back on. Everyone in the city knows it.

“What are you going to do now? Did you apply anywhere else?” her husband asks, “I heard you got minimum wage a job at a bakery. Are you considering a career in baking or is this just some sort of new hobby of yours?”

Tim glances over, seeing his father slowly bring his eyelids together, probably praying for this conversation to end. He knows exactly how his father feels. Tim would rather be struck by lightning than continue this. He tries to think of answer that isn’t going to make his parents want to kill him later, but he’s pretty sure they already do. Just the fact that he didn’t get into the program is embarrassing enough and clearly everyone is laughing about it behind their backs.

“Well, I did get accepted into Gotham U so I plan on attending and then I’ll see from there. Maybe I’ll reapply. I’m not sure. And yes, I am spending my free time working for Mr. Wayne’s son at his bakery as a cashier. It’s just something to do with my spare time.”

Before anyone else can open their mouths, his mother has a tight grip on his shoulder and is pushing them in another direction, “Speaking of Mr. Wayne, I see him on the other side of the room and we’ve got ventures we need to discuss with him. It was nice to see you all and we’ll have to get together again later in the night.”

While his mother does lead them across the room, it isn’t to Mr. Wayne. She takes them down a hallway and towards several rooms that clearly aren’t being used in this building tonight. When she’s sure it’s just the three of them, she raises a hand and brings it down swiftly across his cheek.  

Immediately he draws his hand to his face and looks up at his parents. His mother’s expression is clearly infuriated while his father looks indifferent. He’s not even looking at Tim. It’s almost like he doesn’t want to be anywhere near him at this point.  

“The one thing you’re supposed to do is _not_ embarrass us and it’s the first thing you accomplish!” she hisses through gritted teeth. She draws he hand up the bridge of her nose as Tim gathers up the nerve to reply.

“That wasn’t my fault.”

“Of course it wasn’t. If you had actually gotten into the program in the first place we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. God, I’m sure everyone is just relishing in your failure and laughing behind our backs. Thanks to you, we’re probably the laughing stocks of the entire community. Your father did all of the work and you still- _damn it Timothy_ , _you just_ -thank you for this. Thank you for embarrassing your father and me. I’m sure we’ll be hearing about your shortcomings all night now.”

“Ahem,” Jack Drake clears his throat, and Tim thinks he’s actually going to address him for the first time in a week. He doesn’t, he turns towards Janet and point back towards the main room, “I need to get a drink. I’ll see you back out there.”   

She nods dismissively and glares at her son, “For once I wish we would’ve actually left you at home. Compose yourself and come on. Hopefully they’ve had their fun and no one else will bring it up tonight.”

He falls in line behind his mother, because he doesn’t really have any other options. What else is he supposed to do? He can’t exactly salvage the night. It’s already ruined by the fact that he couldn’t manage to get into the Master’s program and everyone there knows it. It’s not like he could help that though. He didn’t tell everyone about the failure. Word just got around, it happens.  

They walk back into the room and his mother leans into his ear, “Perhaps you should make yourself scare? I’d prefer not to see you for the rest of the night, if at all possible.”

He takes the hint and makes sure to walk in the opposite direction of his mother, trying to figure out what to do now. He sees several kids from school that he wants nothing to do with. Odds are if their parents know, then they know too and they’re probably take pleasure in failings just like they are. He doesn’t need or want that. He never makes it a point to socialize much at these things anyway. Occasionally, Conner shows up to an event, because his dad sometimes covers these things for the newspaper. Those are the best nights, but it doesn’t happen as often as Tim would like, tonight for example. 

While he probably _should_ go find some people his own age to talk to, just to please his parents, he decides against it. It wouldn’t be hard. He’s had his fair share of girls attempt to flirt with him over the years, probably because of who his parents are, but he’s never taken the bait. Tonight, like most other ones, he’s more than likely going to find a table to sit at by himself and read the book he has tucked in his pocket…but only after he makes a stop by the food tables. He needs something to take the edge off of the terrible night he’s having and make him feel a little better.

There’s always a ton of food, that’s a given. From caviar appetizers to chicken florentine and prime rib to decadent chocolate ganache covered cakes, he can find and eat pretty much whatever he wants to his heart’s content.

And he does.

* * *

 

What makes it easy is the fact that no one is really looking for him. He’d managed to fade into the background at the hospital event and has been eating in peace for about the last forty-five minutes. He’s almost done with what is around his sixth or seventh full plate, he’s lost count at this point, when he heard someone talk to him for the first time since his mother told him to pretty much leave her alone for the rest of the night.

_“The amount of food I’ve watched you consume since you started is utterly repulsive.”_

The self-satisfied voice only belongs to one person. He doesn’t really have to look up to know. The same voice has been condescending him all week.

He glances up at Damian and rolls his eyes. He could care less if this kid saw him. It’s not like the kid really likes him and Tim doubts he even cars enough about his health to say anything about this little binge to anyone, if he’s even aware of the fact that that’s what Tim is doing. As far as he knows, Tim is just hungry.

“Well nobody asked you to stand there and watch, did they?” he deadpans. He isn’t in the mood for this. He’s having a shitty night and he’s willing to bet money that Damian only came over to make it worse. He hasn’t bothered to directly address him before, not even at work, and the only reason he’s talking to him now is to insult him.

He looks Tim up and down and scoffs, “I didn’t know they let children like you attend these functions now. Are you here to share some heartwarming story in the hopes that it will convince us to take pity upon you and your friends?”

He looked up at Damian eyeing him and stared incredulously. _Children like him?_ Who, hospital children? Was he implying that Tim was sick and destitute _looking_ like one of the kids that this money was going to help, like a child with a disease or something? Maybe he was, but after a second of staring at him, Tim decided that the youngest Wayne’s question was dead serious.

Damian cocked his head to the side, his own gaze never leaving Tim’s. He was waiting for an answer and the longer it dragged out, the more irritated he became as if Tim was wasting his time. Dick was right about one thing. This kid really did have a false sense of entitlement.

“Do I look sick to you?” The older teen finally asks. Thank God he wasn’t. He couldn’t imagine hearing Damian actually talk to one of the children this money was benefitting if this was how he acted. It was obvious that Damian didn’t believe him, so he tries a different approach. “We go to school together.”

Still nothing.

“We work together.”

Damian shrugs, “So? Isn’t it common for regular teenagers to get part time jobs?”

Tim didn’t even bother to ask what he meant by _regular_. “We live down the street from each other.” 

Once again, he didn’t seem to be convincing him of anything. Bruce Wayne’s youngest son didn’t just hate him for taking a job he felt entitled to, he hated him for being _regular_ and taking the job, only he _wasn’t_. They lived in the same social circle. Damian just thought he was regular, probably because he was too arrogant to bother to notice Tim around before.  

Growing frustrated, Tim exhaled and pointed across the room. “Those are my parents, over there.”

He watched as Damian reluctantly glanced over his shoulder before looking back at him and then over his shoulder once more. When he finally settled on Tim, his eyebrows were drawn up in confusion. “The Drakes…are _your_ parents?” 

“Yes. They are.”

“They don’t _talk_ about you like they’re your parents.”

“I’m surprised they talk about me at all.”

“They don’t say nice things,” Damian informs and that almost kind of hurts because Damian himself isn’t really known to say nice things.

At this point though, Tim could care less what Damian thinks of him. It’s not like it matters. If he has to worry about anybody, it would probably be Dick; and that’s only because of the conversation they had last night. When the younger teen doesn’t say anything back, Tim gets up and heads back towards the food. He saw a piece of cake earlier that looked amazing and has been pretty much calling his name all night. He isn’t expecting the kid to follow him to the table, trailing behind his heels. He doesn’t seem particularly interested in what Tim’s doing. In fact his next question suggests he’s following him for a completely different reason.

“Do you even know what they say about you when you’re not around?” It’s like he’s teasing. He _wants_ Tim to ask.

Tim rolls his eyes and focuses on getting a slice of cake onto a plate. If Damian thinks he’s going to get a rise out of him or hurt his feelings, he’s not. He can say whatever he wants, but he probably doesn’t know that Tim’s heard it all before from his parents own mouths.

“ _Well…_ ” prods Damian when he doesn’t get an answer. This kid is a persistent one, especially considering they haven’t really talked before this. 

“How could I possibly know what they say about when I’m not around? _I’m not around_.” Tim answers before taking a moment to test the frosting of his cake with his finger. Damian is starting to look particularly fed up at this point. “But just for you I’ll take a guess, they probably say that I’m some sort of disappointment or that I’m difficult or something along those lines; and then they go on to list the reasons why, which probably consist of every time I’ve ever failed or messed up in life. Then they finish off by comparing me to other kids and how they wish I wasn’t such a screw up or something like that. Am I right?”

He’s practically got it memorized at this point. Nothing they could say would come as a surprise. At first it was a surprise that they said those things to other people, but even now he’s used to it. It still sucks, but at least by now he’s old enough to realize that it’s probably never going to change. The last chance he had was the master’s program and he already screwed that up.

Damian looks pretty surprised though. He even stands there for a second after Tim starts to make his way back to the table. He only makes it a few steps before he’s being followed by the little urchin again and this time he takes the seat across from him.

“How did _you_ know?” he asks, an almost disappointed look on his face like Tim just took all the joy out of it.

Tim gives him a sideways glance before delving into his cake. He isn’t about to waste his time entertaining Damian. Clearly all the kid wanted to do was make him feel bad about himself, and since he’s failed at that, he might as well just go away and let Tim binge in peace. He’s not afraid the kid is going to expose him or anything, but it’s just weird having somebody watch you eat this much at one time. It definitely makes him feel a little embarrassed.    

Damian sits there, scowl on his face from being ignored. He isn’t really used to being treated this way and he doesn’t like it in the least. It’s bad enough when Dick or Jason grow irritated with him or challenge him, but this guy? It’s just unacceptable.

“I asked you a question.”

He sets his fork down and looks up with a raised brow. “Do you want something? Or did you just come over here to bother me, because I’m busy.”

“I definitely did not come over here to be ignored,” Damian answers before taking a hand to Tim’s plate and sliding it out of his range. He seems to take amusement in how upset the older boy now looks.   

Tim stares over at his plate and then shifts a glare towards Damian. The kid’s lucky he doesn’t want to lose his job, or Tim would probably kill him. “ _What_ do you want? God, between you and your brother-”

“Between you and your brother _what_?” Tim hears from behind him and internally he cringes. Of course he would just have to show up and at now of all times. 

A few seconds later Dick is sitting across from him with that obnoxious smile plastered on his face. Tim just rolls his eyes. Who knows what the hell Dick wants now? After last night, Tim was kind of hoping he would never talk to him again. They were having a fight…weren’t they?

“Nothing. It was nothing. I’m gonna-” he starts, going to move his chair, but he’s cut off.

“Going somewhere already?” asks the oldest male as he places a hand around Damian’s shoulder. He scowls but doesn’t make an effort to move. “I thought we could all talk for a second…unless there are hard feelings from yesterday? I hope you’re not still upset about that. It was just a small misunderstanding and we’re both adults, _right?_ No hard feelings?”

It doesn’t sound like an attempt to clarify so much as it sounds like a challenge, but Tim doesn’t react. He glances between Damian and Dick and then his piece of cake last. He just had to have that slice didn’t he? Now he was stuck here sitting in front of these two. _Great_. What are they even going to talk about? He mentioned yesterday. He thought maybe Dick would apologize for what he said? But that obviously isn’t going to happen. He mentioned it much too casually for it to be that.

 Clearly he’s just going to blow it off like it wasn’t a deal and if that’s how he wants to play it, Tim can get over it. He’s not about to be childish and pout about it, which is what he’s assuming Dick wants. He doesn’t really want to buy into these mind games, but it’s not exactly his choice right now. Tim knows that technically he could just get up, walk away, and be completely justified in doing so, but he just doesn’t want to give Dick any reason to hold it against him later, so he stays. He’s honestly too full and uncomfortable to really get up and walk around a bunch anyway. He might as well just stick around and see what Dick wants, at least to keep his job if nothing else. He’ll entertain him for now, at least until something better comes along.

“O-okay…talk about _what?_ ”  

“Are you really going to make me choose a specific topic?” The younger male just rolls his eyes. Hopefully if he just makes this as difficult as possible Dick will go away, and maybe even take Damian with him. Instead of giving up, Dick sighs, “Okay…well, why are you sitting here scowling at Damian when there’s entire event going on behind you? Aren’t you having a good time?”

Tim looks around the room as if he’s confirming that he’s actually still at said event. How could he forget? Indifferently he shrugs, “I don’t know. I’m just really not into these things.”

A smirk comes to Dick’s face, “You’re not into giving back and raising money to help sick children?”  

“What? N-no, it’s not that at all just-” he starts to defend and Damian scoffs from beside his older brother.

“Pssh, _Drake_ here was much more interested in the spread than he was in anything going on at this pretentious event.” 

One of Dick’s eyebrows slides up and Tim feels his face getting a little hotter. “Oh…well did you try the cake?”

“Um yeah…” he starts while lowering his face. He doesn’t want either of them to notice how uncomfortable he suddenly is. It’s like all the food he ate is starting to feel like a lead weight in his already aching stomach, but this isn’t the worst thing that could happen. It’s not like they _know_. That would be bad. That would lead to people finding out, him embarrassing his parents even more, him embarrassing himself. It just wouldn’t go over well, so he tries to play it off as casually as possible. “I was just starting to enjoy it before Damian took it I guess.”

The youngest male grins and Dick shoots him slight glare. With the sole purpose of irritating him, Dick places a hand on Damian’s head and ruffles his hair, “Yeah, sorry about that. Sometimes little D here still has boundary issues. We’re trying to work on that.”   

“It’s fine.”  

“I’m sure he’d love to give it back to you or get you a new piece, wouldn’t he?”

He grumbles and rolls his eyes, clearly uninterested in doing either of those things. “Do I have to?”

Dick’s about to tell him yes, but Tim reluctantly stops him. As much as he’d like it, Damian’s already made him too uncomfortable to finish his meal. Honestly, he knows he’s probably had more than enough anyway. “It’s fine really. I probably wasn’t going to finish it anyway.”

“Oh, well if you’re done, why don’t you walk around with us for a while? Better than sitting by yourself right?”  

No, at least that’s what Tim thinks at first. Just because he’s talking to Dick at this moment doesn’t mean he actually wants to spend the rest of the night. Plus, he really doesn’t want to get up, not after everything he ate. However, he never wants to have a conversation with Dick like the one he had last night so he nods and stands up after the two brothers and tags along behind them.

His stomach hurts so he’s walking slower than usual and he’s bored out of his mind as they move through the crowd, eventually making their way towards Jason on the other side of the room as he sips a drink in his hand.

“So this is where you wandered off to?” Dick smirks at his middle brother as they walk up.

Jason shrugs non chalant, “I didn’t really wander off anywhere. I’ve been in the same spot for most of this pointless event, _minding my own business by myself_.”

“That’s no way to spend the night. You might as well try and enjoy it.”

Jason looks between all three of them and rolls his eyes, “I get the feeling you’re the only one of the four of us who actually cares.”

Damian lets out a quiet chuckle under his breath which makes Dick frown.

“We come to these things all the time Dick. They’re all the same.”

“I think I would know, but it doesn’t keep me from at least putting a smile on my face and talking to people.”

“I talked to all of the important people, don’t worry. Now I’m riding out the rest of the night over here trying not to be bothered. I might even pick up a girl if I feel like it.”

“You are so difficult,” Dick says, but in a more playful manner. Jason lets out a small laugh as the corner of his lips curl up.

“I don’t want to expose Damian to anymore of your pessimistic attitude at such a young age. Come on, let’s go find Bruce. Will you be alright for a few minutes Tim?” he asks, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

He tries to hide his glare towards the hand as he nods. Why wouldn’t he be? He didn’t really need Dick to come around in the first place, but he doesn’t say that. He’s decided to make a conscious effort to be a little nicer and just play along, though he’s not sure how long that will last. 

He can hear Damian angrily explaining to his older brother that he’s not that young as Dick drags him away, leaving Tim and Jason alone together. Jason takes a sip of his drink, glancing at Tim while he does.

“So,” Jason starts, “I’m guessing Dick dragged you over here against your will? And then he left you here, not a very good host.”

Tim shrugs, “He didn’t _drag_ me. He asked first.” 

“And you came why? You don’t strike as the type to be attracted to Dick, and from what I can conclude, you don’t seem all that _fond_ of him in general so let me guess…you felt obligated, didn’t you?”

Tim’s eyebrows lower and he eyes the older male up and down. That is exactly how he felt, but how would Jason know that? And he’s hardly around, how would he be able to conclude anything? What only makes it worse is that Jason is smirking at him. God, Tim hopes Jason isn’t just another Dick disguised behind a more rough exterior.

“Don’t worry. It happens to all of us at some point. Dick just sort of has this way of getting people to do what he wants sooner or later. He’s a charmer like that.”

Tim’s not sure how to take that. He doesn’t know Jason well enough to decipher what he’s saying either. “So, Dick generally just tends to get his way?”

“With everybody except Bruce maybe,” Jason answers before motioning his hand around the room, “You know these people around here, they’re stupid. Dick bats an eyelash or two and smiles and these people are sharing their life stories, intimate secrets and probably even their social security numbers if he asks.” 

“You almost sound bitter,” Tim states, and Jason just laughs.

“No. Trust me it comes in handy, having a brother like that…even if he is overly touchy and optimistic at times.”

“I take it you’re a glass half empty kind of guy?”

“I take it you are too?”

Tim cracks a slight smile, the first one he’s probably given all night. He’s never talked to Jason before, but he kind of enjoys knowing there’s someone at the bakery that seems to share the same feelings and opinions he does. Jason, he could probably get along with.

“Takes one to know one I guess,” Tim answers dryly, before taking a moment to look around the room, “Mind if I ask why you’re hanging out over here by yourself when your dad and brother seem to be two of the biggest socialites here?” 

“Your parents are two of the biggest socialites here. I could ask you the same question.”

“You enjoy being difficult, don’t you?”

“Just as much as you do.”

“Maybe, but we can’t both be difficult.”

“Then I’ll be difficult, and you be the nice boy I know your parents raised you to be,” Jason says, smiling from behind his now empty glass.

Tim rolls his eyes and decides to give in to answering the question first. “My parents told me to make myself scarce.” Jason glances over, eyebrow raised, looking confused so Tim elaborates. “That’s why _I_ was by myself, but then Damian and Dick came along and dragged me over here.”

“Oh,” he says, and that’s all he says at first before looking out into the crowd. After a few moments he shrugs, “I just come because it makes Bruce happy, you know? We have this like unspoken agreement, that as long as I come and act civil and do the whole meet and greet thing in the beginning, then I can pretty much do whatever I want for the rest of the time as long as I don’t leave.”  

“So then you choose to stand in the corner and avoid human contact for several hours?”

Jason nods his head.

“Hmm, doesn’t sound like a bad agreement honestly. Mind if I join you? I promise I won’t talk to you if you want.”

Jason lets out a short laugh, but it’s not forced or unwelcoming. “I don’t know. You might compromise everything I’ve got going when Dick comes looking for you again. What if he wants you to meet someone and drags me along? Can you assure me that won’t happen?”

“I’m not going to lie. I can’t make you any promises. But maybe if he sees us standing together pretending to be entertaining one another, maybe he’ll leave us alone?”

Jason takes a second before turning to him with a smirk. “You know what kid, I think I like you.”

Tim feels himself involuntarily smiling and Jason rolls his eyes.

“Don’t get too excited. I haven’t decided yet, but so far, you seem alright.”

“Should I take that as I compliment?” 

“Probably not. I wouldn’t, but something tells me you might anyway and I can’t tell you what you can and can’t do.”

* * *

 

The rest of the night goes fairly well. So maybe he had to talk to Dick, but actually talking to Jason for once wasn’t so bad. Tim spends the next hour or so standing with Jason in the corner making the occasional joke and taking the time to let his food settle. Nobody seems to bother them and he wonders if maybe the older boy’s standoffish attitude is the reason behind that. He’s not complaining about it, just curious.  

When things start to wind down he finally heads off to find his parents. He’s probably been away long enough at this point for them to accept him back, or at least they’re drunk enough not to complain about it. He wanders around until he sees both of them saying goodbye to some colleagues by the entrance where he just falls into place beside them without much of a word.  

His mother finishes up her conversation and when she notices him, she takes his arm and starts to lead him outside towards the car. “We were looking for you,” she hisses, obvious annoyance just oozing off of her words.

“I thought you told me to make myself scarce?”  

He averts his gaze as his mother turns her own to glare at him. “It would behoove you not to sass me, especially while we’re still in public. Hurry up and get in the car before you proceed to irritate me further. What were you even doing that we couldn’t find you for the last fifteen minutes?”

He walks towards the car and gets in, all the while wondering why they didn’t just call him if they were trying to find him so bad? Isn’t that what cell phones are for? Of course, with parents it’s never that simple, especially his parents. It’s almost like they look for reasons for him to disappoint them.   

“I was talking to Jason, Mr. Wayne’s son,” he answers, securing himself under his seat belt in the back.

His father seems to twitch with disapproval from his spot in the drivers seat, but doesn’t bother to turn around or say anything. He just gives a glance to his wife as if telling her to handle it. Janet turns around in her seat, giving Tim an upset look he isn’t accustomed to. He’s not sure if he should feel frightened or not by it.

“Jason? That rude, inconsiderate, delinquent of a son? I don’t even see why Bruce took him in. God, he’s even worse than _you_ are. Why were you hanging around with that-you know what, I don’t even want to know! I just don’t want you getting too comfortable with him, do you understand?”

Tim would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little confused. His parents had never really mentioned disliking Jason before, then again they don’t mention Jason much at all, so this is new and unexpected for him. He briefly wonders what they think about Damian when it occurs to him they never really mention him much either. The only one of Mr. Wayne’s sons they ever really talk about at home is Dick. As far as he knew before this, they liked them all.

“Why not?” he asks curiously, “What’s so bad about him?” 

He seemed nice enough when Tim was talking to him. Maybe he was a little pessimistic and standoffish, but he wasn’t a bad guy. He was actually rather entertaining in Tim’s opinion. His mother’s face indicates that she clearly seems to think otherwise.

“You mean other than the fact that he grew up with absolutely no guidance and he’s a delinquent street urchin? He’s just not the type of kid you should be associating yourself with. Yes, he’s Bruce Wayne’s son, if you can even call it that. He’s more of a charity case and he’s, well he’s _beneath_ us. You’re already straying downhill Timothy, we do not need the likes of Jason Todd dragging you further.”  

He lowers his head at that and just stares down at his lap. He knows they’re never going to let him forget the Master’s thing. Sure she didn’t say it directly, but he knows that’s what she was referring to when she speaks that last sentence. She makes it sound like Jason’s going to try and get him hooked on drugs or something, as if Tim would be stupid enough to let that happen. Besides he already didn’t get in, what does it matter if he talks to Jason now? It’s not as if that could make things worse.  

When he doesn’t respond, his mother continues talking, a lighter air to her voice now. “If you’re going to make friends with any of Bruce’s children outside of the bakery, why not Dick? He’s a lovely child, with a lot going for him and plenty of _connections_. Make friends with someone that might actually benefit you for once, unlike the riff raff you run around with at school, like the little blonde harlot or that brown haired nuisance from the middle of nowhere.”

His eyebrows furrow and he’s mildly disgusted by what his mother is saying, not surprised, just disgusted. “I don’t choose my friends based on what they can do for me.” 

Janet Drake lets out an arrogant laugh as she turns her attention back towards the front of the car. “Maybe you should start? You might have actually gotten into the Master’s program if you did, but I guess we’ll never know now… _will we Timothy_?”   

Tim doesn’t say anything else, mostly because he doesn’t want to lose his temper. Getting into full blown fights with his parents has never really benefitted him before. Usually it just leads to him hearing his parents say things a child should never hear from two loving parents. Instead he just sits in the back and tries to focus on anything else until they get home where he can go to his room for the rest of the night. When they pull into the driveway, he wastes no time getting out of the car and going upstairs.

He’s still kind of ticked when he gets up there, but at least he’s by himself, where they can’t bother him further. He just can’t believe they would try to tell him who he can and can’t be friends with? And then of course they would suggest Dick as a better alternative. Why wouldn’t they love him? It would be just his luck wouldn’t it? His parents, _whom he’s not even sure like him half the time_ , love his boss, who is either really strange or really interested in playing mind games with him or both. From what he’s heard and read, the life of a privileged kid like himself is supposed to be fun and easy, so why isn’t his? Whoever came up with that misconception is a liar _and_ an asshole and they clearly never met parents like his.  

The first thing he does is change because it’ll probably calm him down significantly. He strips out of his suit, letting out a sigh of relief as he does. The dressier the outfit, the more constricting it is, and the less food it takes to feel uncomfortable in. His lack of comfort may be the only thing bothering him more than his parents at the moment. Once he’s changed into sweats, he throws himself into his bed and lies on his back. He’s isn’t tired, but he’s not in the mood to do much at the moment anyway, especially not when he has to go to work in the morning and more than likely play mind games with Dick anyway. 

Lazily Tim reaches a hand over towards his night stand and into a drawer, looking for a book to read when he hits familiar territory. The sound of plastic rustling hits him first, then he feels the soft cake underneath. It’s spongy, so a Twinkie probably? It’s not like he really _cares_ , they’re all pretty much the same. He hesitates for a second, thinking back to the event. He really shouldn’t because he already ate more than enough there. He wasn’t even looking for snacks right now, he was looking for a book. He should just find the book and go on to reading like he’d originally planned to do in the first place. But he doesn’t, because well…

It’s not a real binge, just a snack. Besides, Damian kind of did ruin his cake earlier and he’s been craving something sweet ever since. Plus to top it all off, he had to interact with Dick and deal with his parents. That’s definitely stressful enough to warrant this. He practically needs it. It would definitely help take his mind off things and chill him out. So, _why not_? He grabs the snack, unwrapping it as he lies down. He deserves it, doesn’t he? One won’t hurt.

It’s not like he’ll be much worse off than he is now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not too much bakery action but an intro to damian and jason. hope u liked, plz comment


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little harder for Tim as his parents give him his toughest ultimatum yet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey hey! back with another chap! yay!
> 
> hope you guys are still enjoying this. This chap is going to introduce some conflict, at least for tim. after this chap, things should start getting a little more interesting as far as his eating disorder goes :) i hope you enjoy that
> 
> thats about all i got going. thanks for all the reviews and the love. I appreciate it
> 
> i do not own young justice

 

4

For the next few days, work isn’t too taxing or exciting. Dick hasn’t brought up that conversation they had. He’s just gone back to his usual self, acting as if it didn’t happen, just like at the hospital event the other night. It doesn’t really bother Tim, not really. He doesn’t want to talk about it anyway. Dick made his point clear, he holds all the cards and Tim holds none. It’s not a hard concept to understand, it’s practically the story of his life anyway. He just deals with it, though a few times _dealing with it_ has involved sneaking something quick in his car or between classes or at home, rather than actually trying to fix the problem.

Damian hasn’t said much to him, other than the usual insults and jabs. He hasn’t bothered to really go out of his way to talk to have a conversation; the insults have just grown more frequent. Tim hasn’t yet figured out if that means Damian likes him or not yet, but he’s waiting to see. He’s pretty sure Jason likes him now though, or at least is willing to tolerate him, which is good enough. The two of them have shared some dry, sarcastic jokes over the last few days but for the most part, Tim’s just been doing his job and going home. It doesn’t bother him any. He has been keeping up his after work cake sessions with Barbara though so, he’s having a good week…at least until Thursday afternoon.

It’s a regular day. He’s been here for almost an hour and he’s got a little more than an hour left. The afterschool rush has come and went, so now he’s just sitting reading another book for school, waiting for a random passerby to stumble in and maybe indulge in something. Damian’s sweeping the floor, grumbling as he does. Jason’s grabbing some empty cake trays to take to the back and Dick is just walking into the front asking Tim if he’s doing alright when they walk in.

He hears the familiar sound of the door opening and casually glances up, ready to greet the new customers until he actually sees who it is. Standing inside, looking around the room are his mom and dad.

He sees Jason, Dick, and Damian all exchange strange looks, but he doesn’t have the time to try and decipher them. He doesn’t even think to say hi. The first thing that shoots out of his mouth is, “What are you two doing here?” It’s not rude, more surprised and slightly appalled. 

Thousands of reasons run through his head and not a single one is good. Automatically he starts to think back everything he might’ve done to piss his parents off in the last few days, but nothing really comes to mind. They can’t actually be here to buy something…Tim’s not even sure he’s ever even seen his mom eat sweets or cake or anything like that, not even on his birthday so that can’t possibly be it.

His dad continues to look around, taking in everything while ignoring his son. Tim figures his mom probably dragged him in there to keep up the whole happy “family” image. Anyone who knows that his father literally hasn’t said more than five words to him in over a week would know that’s not true.

His mother smiles, letting out a slight laugh and she raises her eyebrow. “What do you mean? You’ve been working here for a few weeks now and we haven’t been in once. We just came to see you.”

He really wants to ask why, but he knows if he does, it’ll create a problem that he’ll have to deal with when he goes home. Instead he keeps his mouth shut and just smiles and nods as if this is normal. “Oh…um, okay…” 

“You sound strange. You’re not screwing anything up, are you?”

Tim almost wants to let out a sigh of relief when he hears this question. That sounds about right. That sounds more like her. His cheeks turn a slight red as he answers, “Um, no.” He knows it doesn’t sound confident and he’s sure she can probably tell.

Janet just rolls her eyes and makes her way over to one of the display cases, “You don’t sound very sure.”

“I…ugh…” he starts before Dick cuts in to save him. Tim’s not sure if he should be grateful or pissed. He didn’t exactly _need_ to be saved.

“Actually Tim is doing very well,” he says and Jake Drake just scoffs, offering him a sideways glance from in front of one of the pastry counters. “No, really. He picked up everything in no time. He’s a smart kid, customers like him. You should be proud of him.” 

Even Tim’s a little surprised to hear this. He and Dick aren’t exactly best friends so he doesn’t exactly have to talk him up like this. Janet looks from Dick to Tim and lets out a short laugh under her breath. “Being good at customer service isn’t exactly something to be proud of. I can think of several other things, _maybe involving college_ , that would’ve made us a lot more proud.”

The longer this conversation drags on, the more embarrassed Tim starts to feel and something tells him that’s exactly how he’s supposed to feel. Damian is pretending to keep sweeping in the corner, though Tim is sure he’s listening in on all of this. Jason hasn’t even pretended to be doing a job. He’s just standing against the wall with his arms crossed taking in the scene in front of him. 

Slowly Tim sinks into himself because there it is, there’s that reference again. He didn’t get in, he knows. It’s been like two weeks, he thinks they’d be over it and on to the next thing by now. Clearly they’re going to bring this up until the day he dies, which will probably be before either of them because only a kid as useless as Tim wouldn’t be smart enough to at least outlive his parents. That’s how they would twist it.  

“But that isn’t the only thing, right?”

Jack looks up at Dick and then towards his own son, making sure Tim knows he’s addressing him when he says, “It’s about the only thing that matters.” 

Dick frowns and Janet lets out a dramatic sigh, looking towards the case and changing the topic, “Tim honey, do you carry anything maybe low fat or sugar free, something a little more health conscious?”

“Health conscious? Sugar free?” Jason barks from his spot against the wall, “That’s a joke right? This is a _bakery_. Everything in here is made of sugar.”

“Jason!” scolds Dick and his younger brother just rolls his eyes and grumbles a response.

“What? God, you know how she is.” All he’s given is a look and Jason just throws his hands up and concedes without another word.

Janet purses her lips, clearly irritated, but she decides to let it slide for once, choosing to ignore Jason altogether. “Regardless, I feel like we should buy something. Tim, just box us up a cake and I’ll figure out what to do with it once I get home or something.” 

He sighs and slowly drags himself off his stool, towards the case. He just picks the first cake he sees, a decadent cookies and cream, and rings it up on the register. His mom hands him a card and he charges it before seeing his dad pick up the box from the counter and head towards the door. 

She starts to walk off, but then his mom stops and turns to him, waving her hand as she remembers something, “Oh, that’s right. I know what I can use the cake for! That reminds me, we’re having guests for dinner tonight, so make sure to be home at a decent time.”

“Um, okay. I’ll see you later then I guess.”

She seems to brush him off as she turns around, “Mmhmm, yeah.” 

Tim’s not sure if he should be humiliated or relieved once his parents are finally gone. Maybe he’s a little of both? There’s a brief moment of silence after they walk out, but Jason breaks that.

“So, they’re always assholes then, even with you?”

Dick brings his palm to his face and practically growls, “Jason! Don’t you have a job you’re supposed to be doing?”

“They’re not perfect, but they’re not that bad,” Tim tries to defend, though it doesn’t sound very confident and it’s mostly a lie, “Not always.” 

A condescending laugh can be heard from Damian of the other side of the room. Tim can’t even really blame him. His parents just came and embarrassed him for no reason at his job. It was unnecessary to say the least. Even he knows that.

With a sigh, Tim turns to Dick, “Would you mind if I took my break now?” 

Dick looks a little surprised, because usually he has to come find Tim and force him to take a break. He hasn’t really _asked_ before. He nods then looks back at Jason and Damian, pretty much ordering them to leave with just a look. They both walk out, only because they’re being forced, as Tim grabs his book and his backpack from under the counter, before making his way towards the break room in the back. 

He’s by himself, which is what he was expecting and hoping for. He just needs a few minutes to forget what just happened and tell himself that by tomorrow everyone will have forgotten what they saw. He sticks his hand into the front zipper of his bag, looking to take comfort in something he knows he shouldn’t be. He’s been trying to do better but old habits die hard, he guesses. He’d stopped at the vending machine with Bart between classes and picked up three cinnamon rolls, intending to eat them on his way to work before talking himself out of it. He’d been able to then, but nothing is about to stop him now. It’s always harder to talk himself out of it when he’s stressed, or in this case, upset and humiliated.

He opens the first one, taking a bite and he can feel himself calming down some after he does. It’s pathetic, he knows, it works though. He’s sure that by now his body probably just associated eating with pleasure and comfort, which is wrong, but he can’t change it at this point. Sometimes it’s just easier to go with what works than to try and find a better alternative.

 Tim eats at a slow pace, because it makes him feel like he’s got less of a problem and he’s in control if he’s not shoving food down his throat. He leaves the plastic on the table as he starts into the second one. Finally he’s halfway into his third and last, when Dick pops into the doorway, surprising the hell out of him.

“Hey,” he says, almost causing the teen to choke. It’s not so much that he’s shocked now, as it is that he doesn’t want the older male to see what he’s doing. Of course he’s left his wrappers in plain sight.

“H-hey…did you need me back?” His mouth is full, so it comes out a little muffled.

“No, you’ve still got a few minutes. I let Damian watch the front for a sec. I just wanted to see if you were ugh, alright?”

Tim swears he sees Dick look right from his pile of wrappers to the half-eaten cinnamon roll in his hand and raise a curious eyebrow. He can feel his cheeks getting hotter with each passing second. It’s more just a reflex if anything. It’s not as if Dick can just tell what he’s doing, but it’s still embarrassing to slip up like this. He already had Damian watching him at the event the other night. Hopefully they don’t decide to put two and two together. 

He’s tries to be convincing when he says, “Y-yeah, I’m fine.”

Dick doesn’t see to buy it. Tim can see it all over his face, but he could care less. He doesn’t want to get into it though. After all, they don’t even have that kind of relationship. Caring about each other is something friends do. They’re definitely not friends and Tim definitely doesn’t spend his time caring about whether or not Dick Grayson is okay. He probably has ten thousand other people doing that for him anyway. As far as relationships go, Tim is a worker and Dick is his boss. That was made clear already. He doesn’t need Dick to be concerned or whatever it is he’s feeling. 

He tilts his head and asks again, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he spits with a quick scowl, “I said I was fine didn’t I?”

“You don’t look fine and well out there…I mean, your parents are um difficult, I understand bu-” 

“No you don’t.”

Tim says it so quick, it catches Dick off guard. “What?”

He takes a deep breath and stares right at Dick. He tries to say it without sounding, well mean, but still stern so as to get his point across. “No, you don’t. You don’t understand. You don’t know anything about me or my parents or how _difficult_ they are.”

“I probably know more than you think.”

Tim just rolls his eyes. “I doubt it.”

“So tell me something then,” he suggests, walking over and putting a hand on Tim’s shoulder. The younger male stiffens under his touch. Whether he tolerates Dick or not, he will never be used to him putting his hands on his body. Those hands have been all over Barbara and who knows where else they’ve been. “Try me.”

He isn’t really expecting that and for a brief second, he actually considers telling the older male something. Of course, he decides against it. Why would he open up to Dick? That would create the illusion that they’re more than they are and that’s already gotten him into trouble once. Sure, he’ll talk to him casually at work if he wants and even spend a little time with him at events if he sees him, but he isn’t about to get extremely personal with him. Those things are just enough to seem cordial and keep from getting fired. For all Tim knows, Dick would just use whatever he said against him later anyway.

Tim shrugs himself out of his bosses grip and almost glares at him, “For what? It’s not going to-why do you even care? Last I remember, you were holding your status over me, then we get to the event and suddenly we’re cool again and now you’re back here asking me if I’m okay. I don’t…I don’t understand you.”

Dick narrows his eyes, seeming to take it all in, “Well, if you would just shut up and actually listen to me, I think you’d see that I’m trying to _help_ you.”

Help him? How Dick could ever possibly help him is beyond Tim. He doesn’t need his money, not yet at least, and he doesn’t need whatever stupid advice or life lessons Dick Grayson could ever give him. It all probably pertains to hooking up with strangers and avoiding tabloids anyway. Still, he is trying to be nice…Tim just wishes he knew what the hell was going on in Dick’s head sometimes.

“Well thanks and all, but don’t okay? I don’t need your help or anybody else’s for that matter…” he says in an almost somber tone. The air is silent for a few seconds where neither of them even make eye contact, before Tim looks up at the older male with, “I don’t mean to sound so…I just…I should probably get back to the counter.”  

“Yeah, probably,” Dick shoots Tim a look of pity that’s hard to miss. Instead of accepting it, he shifts his eyes towards the floor and pushes pass his boss back into the front of the store.

* * *

 

The rest of the day is just awkward and miserable, at least for Tim. He’s almost sure if his co-workers haven’t already discussed him and his parents in the back, they surely will when he leaves. He doesn’t even stick around to have his usual session with Barbara, instead telling her that he has to go home and get ready for a dinner they probably won’t be having until late tonight anyway. He could’ve stayed, but for once he just doesn’t want to. He drives home hoping to be left alone until he gets called for dinner, but of course not. His parents are sitting right in the living room when he walks in.

“Timothy,” his mother says dryly. She’s sitting on the couch reading over some papers in her lap. He assumes she’s reviewing something for their family’s company. 

“Mom.”

“Mother,” she corrects. 

“Mother.”

“Dinner is at eight. Your father and I are having Mr. Wayne and his boys over, so be on you best behavior.”

Tim’s ears immediately perk up at this news. He assumed it was just some regular client they were schmoozing or one of their so called “friends”…both of which he realizes, could include Mr. Wayne. Why his sons too though? “Why?” 

Her head shoots up, giving Tim a quick glance that tells him he should probably rephrase before she makes him wish he had. “Excuse me?” 

“I just…his sons coming too? Is this not some sort of business thing?” Sure Tim is a kid and he’ll be there, but that’s only because he lives here. Usually he doesn’t talk when they have people over, unless asked a question directly. Most times, he just eats and then excuses himself to his room. 

“Because,” she starts, “Even though business will probably come up, this dinner is mostly casual. Your father and I thought it would be nice to have him and his sons over seeing as they gave you a job. It’s to show our appreciation, since you know, they have the displeasure of putting with someone like you everyday.”

Tim just rolls his eyes at the last part. If he was that bad he’s sure they would’ve gotten rid of him by now. And how come he wasn’t consulted about this? He is the one actually working the job. And if both Jack and Janet decided this, where is Jack? Why hasn’t he bothered to talk to his son in weeks? All these things run through Tim’s head, but he refrains from saying any of them, choosing to just nod instead. 

“Just make sure to be down here in time and look presentable please?”

He gives her a mock smile and continues on to his room, “Yes mother.”

* * *

 

“Timothy! Our guests are here! Could you come down please?” Janet calls, trying to hide the edge in her voice in front of their company.

It’s not that he meant to be late, though can you really be late in your own house? He just lost track of time when he was doing his homework, not that his parents will care. He does his best to get downstairs, tying his tie and fixing his pants as he walks into the dining room.

Everyone is already down at the table when he takes his seat, which of course happens to be right across from Dick. He just wants to shoot himself in the face. After that awkward exchange in the break room, it would only be right for him to be right in front of his boss. Mr. Wayne and his father are seated at opposite ends of the table, with Janet at Jack’s left, followed by Tim next to her. Damian is next to Bruce on the opposite side, followed by Dick and finally Jason.

He smiles and says hi when he’s seated. The minute there’s a break his mother leans into his ear. “What the hell took you so long? I told you to make sure to be down here on time.”

“I lost track of time,” he answers between gritted teeth, “You know how people like me are. Maybe somebody should’ve come up stairs and reminded me.”  

His mother looks almost insulted but covers it up with a forced smile. “Watch yourself.”

When he turns his attention towards the table, Damian looks bored out of mind. He lets out an obnoxious sigh for dramatic effect, earning himself a look from both Bruce and Dick. Jason seems to a have a scowl on his face, but Tim isn’t sure if that’s his usual scowl or something different. Bruce looks the same way he always does, professional but indifferent. Dick, who Tim’s been trying to avoid looking at in general, has his usual charming smile on that clearly his mother is just mesmerized by because she hasn’t stopped looking at it.

“Dinner should be out shortly,” informs Janet, “Until then, how has everyone been? Doing well I hope?”

Tim wants to gag at how fake she sounds. He can’t remember his mother ever using such a pleasant tone with him. 

Bruce answers with a smile that Tim suspects is practiced, “We’ve all been well. Thank you again by the way for inviting us to have dinner at your home. It looks lovely as always.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he offers, then turns towards Tim. “Timothy.”

The teen looks up with wide eyes. Usually when he’s addressed like that, it’s a bad thing. Other than being late he’s pretty sure he hasn’t done anything yet, but who knows? 

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. I don’t even think we got a chance to talk much at this past event. How have you been? How are your studies coming?”

Before answering, he inhales deep, preparing himself to put on the façade that he’s a really pleasant, well-mannered child. “I’ve been fine, and so far everything is fine in school as well. It’s still early in the year though. There isn’t much to do yet.” 

“I imagine it wouldn’t be that hard for you regardless of how far into the semester you were.”

“No, probably not,” he says a tad arrogantly, earning what looks to be a genuine smirk from Bruce.

Before anything else can be said, food is being brought out by the hired help and laid on the table. Tim surveys the selection. It’s a lot nicer than how they eat on any normal day, not that they ever eat bad, but his parents never put this much effort into their dinners. There’s everything from steak, to shrimp, to chicken with several sides along with salad and bread. Like they couldn’t have just had spaghetti or something? Honestly, if anybody would’ve asked Tim, but why would they, he could go for a Big Mac or two right now. 

“It looks amazing,” comments Bruce, “You really didn’t have to go through all of this effort.”

“It’s fine really. Please help yourselves.” 

Tim puts a healthy serving of food on his plate and starts to eat. As long as he’s eating, he’s got an excuse not to talk. He’s hoping if he just doesn’t make eye contact, eats, and keeps quiet, then maybe everyone will forget he’s even there. His parents probably already have. 

It works for a while. Bruce and Jack talk numbers and stocks for a little bit, but that only lasts so long before becoming incredibly boring and the conversation makes its way towards the bakery. Internally, Tim cringes.

“So Richard, tell me,” starts Jack, “How exactly is the bakery business treating you. I still don’t understand why you choose to manage a bakery with your degree and credentials.” 

Tim, whose been looking down the whole time, glances up at Dick. When the older male looks back, he quickly averts his eyes and hopes he hasn’t been caught. It’s just awkward. It’s bad enough his parents came in earlier and embarrassed him, then there was the break room and now they’re at his house. He just wasn’t prepared for any of this. 

 “Well, it certainly doesn’t pay as much as a working at Drake Industries or Wayne Enterprises, but it’s not really about the money. I do it more so because I enjoy it and you could say I’m helping out a friend. Plus it provides a lot more flexibility and free time than working at a major corporation would and I don’t have to answer to anyone other than myself. I’m sure one day, I’ll end up somewhere much larger, but for now, it’s simple and easy. I like that.”   

“Free time and flexibility, that’s understandable. It doesn’t put a strain on things like family,” Jack comments and Tim can’t help but just openly roll his eyes at that, he even laughs a little under his breath. Family? Right, as if Jack would know anything about that. Tim’s pretty sure families talk and you know, like each other. 

“Did you have something you wanted to say sweetie?” his mother grits between her teeth. She’s embarrassed, he knows that much, but she’s forcing a smile.

He looks up and points towards his chest, “Who, me?” She nods and it’s rigid and angry. He knows if Bruce wasn’t here she’d flip. “Oh, no, I didn’t have anything to say.”

Knowing his wife better than anyone in the room, Jack takes initiative and averts the topic from Tim back to, well anyone else. “Jason,” he starts, though it’s obvious he doesn’t really want to talk to him, “How’s school treating you?” 

He looks completely disinterested when he answers, “Fine. I’m not breezing through college like the golden child did, but I’m not failing either.” Dick playfully rolls his eyes at the referral and Jason shoots him a friendly smirk.

“That’s good. And Damian, how’s Gotham Academy?”

He grunts something under his breath, probably an insult, before looking up with an obviously fake smile. “Lovely. I simply couldn’t imagine attending anywhere else.” 

Janet seems to beam at his reply. Whether or not she knows he’s being a brat is beyond Tim. “I take it you’re applying to Gotham U like the rest of your family?”

“Of course.”

“Are you going into business?” she inquires, and here it comes. They’re about to bring up the fucking business thing again. Tim tries to hide his irritation by grabbing two rolls and shoving one violently into his mouth. As he chews angrily, he doesn’t seem to notice the curious look Dick is giving him. He’s been glancing at Tim whenever he’s gotten the chance, though of course, he hasn’t been getting much back.

“Naturally.”

“I figured. I’m sure you’ll be a shoe in for the program.”

“I would hope,” he laughs, “Now that Dick is on the board.”

Even Tim takes a second to look up after hearing this. Dick’s face is going a slight shade of pink as both Jack and Janet turn toward him. “What does he mean?”

“I-it’s not how it…I just found out last night. It’s temporary. It’s not like an official job or permanent or anything. One of the kids who got accepted into the program declined so they’re re-reviewing applications and taking new submissions over the next few weeks, to be fair. Bruce was supposed to do it, but he’s busy, so I ugh…I’m helping out in his place.”

Both adults nod, and Dick continues, looking directly at Tim when he says, “You know Tim, you should reapply. It wouldn’t hurt anything.”

Of course that would be his luck. Just when he thought it was over, or at least calming down some, here it comes all over again. Reapply for what? So he can be rejected again and his parents can be pissed all over again. Yeah right. While this could be his chance to get his parents good graces again, he’s never been too optimistic.

“Um…yeah, I…” he’s trying to figure out how exactly he’s going to decline the offer in the nicest, easiest way possible. 

Janet cuts him off before he can do so. “Why that’s great news. Of course he will be reapplying.”

She exchanges smiles with Dick; and internally Tim just groans and slowly fills his plate again. Why him, he wonders pushing a forkful of food into his mouth. As if his day could get any worse.

* * *

 

“Your parents are stiff,” Jason says staring at family photos placed around the mantle of the Drake fireplace. He’s the only one standing as Tim is sitting across from Damian and Dick on the couches enjoying slices of the cake purchased earlier. Janet, Jack, and Bruce are enjoying a drink in the parlor, an offer Dick eagerly declined. Tim wishes he would’ve taken it though because sitting across from him now is just as awkward as it was at the dinner table. He’s still trying to make as a little eye contact as possible.

Slowly Tim slides a bite of cake of his fork and shrugs, “Like I said, they’re not perfect.”

“Geez Jason, those are his parents. Maybe you’d like to think before you say anything else rude about them today.”

Jason turns around, pursing his lips at his older brother, “What? I’m just saying. I mean besides, it’s not like he doesn’t know.” 

That’s clearly not the point and Jason knows that. Hell, Dick knows that he knows that, but it doesn’t stop him so Dick takes the initiative to do what he knows his brother isn’t going to. “I’m sorry about him.”

“It’s fine, really. He’s just being honest and ugh, voicing his opinion.” 

“See! Besides Dick, you should know how they are better than anybody…other than their son of course.”

Damian smirks from his while Dick just drops his head and grunts. Clearly whatever Jason is alluding to is something he doesn’t want brought up.

Tim raises an eyebrow and looks between the three of them before settling back on Jason, “What do you mean?” He remembers Dick saying something about knowing his parents earlier. He wonders if that’s what Jason is talking about.

“Nothing, it’s stupid. He’s just joking around.”

Not wanting to make things any weirder, Tim chooses not to bring it up again. Dick can sense his awkwardness. It’s been like this since they talked earlier. He’s been feeling it too, even though he’s been trying to make an effort to get passed it, Tim not so much. He’s been pretending to be too busy eating the whole time to try move passed it. 

“So…” he says, trying to think of a way to change the subject. While Damian and Jason seem to be fine, Tim and Dick are both looking around the room awkwardly. Before anything can come to mind, Bruce and Tim’s parents waltz in smiling and laughing.

“I’d hate to interrupt all the fun you four seem to be having, but it’s late and Damian has school in the morning. Tim, I believe you do too?”  

Yes he does. Thank God for that.

* * *

 

Tim’s putting plates in the sink when his parents walk in him. He doesn’t hear them walk in but when he turns around they’re right behind him, arms folded with matching scowls.

“Is something wrong?”

“Don’t be cute Timothy. You know what this is about,” growls his mother, “You _are_ reapplying to that program.”

He laughs a little under his breath, “For what? So I can be rejected again. Nothing’s changed. If I didn’t get in the first time, I doubt I’ll get in the second.”

“Well things are different this time around,” his father informs.

“How?” 

Janet drops her hands from her chest in agitation and brings them up to her forehead, “Jesus Timothy, could you be any more dense? If so, it’s understandable that they rejected you the first time. Your boss, and personal family friend, is on the board.” 

“Who, Dick? I wouldn’t exactly call him a friend.”

“Well I suggest you do whatever you have to do to change that.”

It takes him a second to catch on but when he does, he’s tilting his head to the side and narrowing his eyes, “Are you serious?” When she doesn’t answer, he continues, “I’m not about to kiss Dick Grayson’s ass just to be accepted into that program.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s pathetic and embarrassing.”

“You’re pathetic and embarrassing,” Jack snarls. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll do everything in your power to make sure you get in this time.”

“I’m not going to-I don’t even _like_ him!” 

“I don’t give a shit whether you like him or not! For some off reason he seems fond of you and he is your last chance-”

“My last chance? You’re already going to cut me off at the end of the year.”

His father takes a step forward, making Tim uncomfortable as he closes the small gap between them. He leans into his son’s ear, “Give me a reason not to cut you off now.”

“You can’t do that.”

“I can and I will.”

“I’m not even eighteen. You couldn’t legally do that to me.”

“I can cut you off from all of my money, even if I have to let you stay here, there’s no law that says I can’t make your last few months here as miserable as I can. I’m not going to let you keep humiliating me and this family.”

“Don’t think we forget about the way you were showing your ass at dinner either,” Janet adds, “I have no idea where that came from tonight, I hope it wasn’t to impress that Jason character. All I know is I better not ever see that side of you again, do you understand me?”

He doesn’t speak, too busy trying to get a grip on everything his parents are telling him? They can’t be serious. He never thought they would stoop so low as to have him kiss up to somebody, he always figured they thought too highly of themselves for that; and maybe he would consider it if was anyone than Dick. He barely wants to work with him, now they want him to suck up to the guy? And why does she think that he and Jason are so chummy? He does like him more than Dick, but they’re not best friends either.

Suddenly he feels a hand violently gripping onto his forearm and jerking him back to attention, “Your mother asked you a question. Do you understand her?” He pronounces ever word sharply as if it’s its own sentence.

“Yes, yes I understand her.”

Jack’s grip tightens as he asks, “And do you understand me?” 

“Yes.”

“Good,” He lets go of Tim’s arm and takes a step back, straightening his own sleeves, “You better make sure you get in this time Timothy, sway Richard in your direction, or I can assure you that your remaining months here will be comparable to hell on earth, if not worse.”

Tim just nods silently. He believes every word of that threat. At least when it comes to their threats, his parents aren’t liars. 

A smiles draws across Janet’s face as she takes her husband’s arm, “Try not to screw up this time. As long as you like anyone but yourself, you should be fine…oh, and make sure to turn the lights off down here when you’re done. Don’t stay up too late.” 

He hates the way they can walk away casually after what they’ve just said. Why is it that the people he knows seem to be so good at doing that? As they walk out, he takes a seat at the island in the middle of their kitchen and just gives himself a second to process all of this.

Of all the terrible things that could happen to him, this might be one of the worst. They actually expect him to start kissing up to Dick? He’s been trying his best not to get close to him and now he’s supposed to do the exact opposite? It’s not like he can’t, but he definitely doesn’t _want_ to. 

As he sits at the counter, his head in his hands, every reason why this is a bad idea and why God seems to hate him go through his mind. It’s while he’s moving his head to the side to take a deep breath that he sees it, the rest of the cake from earlier. He knows he already got away with eating a little extra at dinner, but that was necessary to keep from having to participate in the conversation.

This is different though.

If there was ever a reason to binge on cake, it would be tonight – the one where his parents told him to essentially befriend Dick Grayson. He has to be the strangest, most irritating, childish person Tim’s ever met. Tim already decided they would never be friends, now he has to go back on that? Besides, it’s not like anyone will notice if some of it’s gone. His mother didn’t even want to buy the thing anyway or like anyone else is going to eat it, and cakes are meant to be eaten right?

Right.

So it’s decided. About half the cake is left, so Tim cuts himself half of that and takes it upstairs to his room. He changes and lies down, opening a book and resting his plate on his stomach. The entire time he’s eating, he keeps trying to reassure himself that even though he’s probably going to be stressing a lot more often because of Dick, it’s not an excuse to turn to a piece of cake every time he needs comforting. He’s not going to let this food thing become a problem.

Not again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed. feel free to comment :)


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things only seem to be getting worse and it's giving Tim a lot to think about

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey yall! im back and once again thanks for all the great feedback! i love the comments and favs n stuff! its awesome!
> 
> just so you know, there is A LOT going on in this chap, so be warned and pay close attention! I hope you'll enjoy it.
> 
> i do not own young justice

5

The next morning when Tim wakes up the first thing he remembers is what his parents told him last night and it pretty much puts a damper on his entire mood. It's all he can think about as he showers and brushes his teeth. He's not even sure what he's supposed to do.

Of course he's supposed to schmooze Dick.

He gets that part. It's just he isn't sure how he's supposed to suddenly go from how he's been acting to being Dick's friend. It's not exactly something he thinks he can do overnight. The more he thinks about it, the more it begins to stress him out, so he just tries to think of something else.

He walks into his closet with his towel wrapped around his waist and begins rummaging through his clean clothes to find his uniform. At least he has school to distract him for a few hours before he has to get to the bakery. He grabs a white shirt and buttons it up, before throwing a blue long sleeve sweater on top. Then he rummages through his laundry and finds his khakis, pulling them up to his waist. They feel a little snugger than they usually do, but they still technically fit. In his absentmindedness he attributes it to the fact that they were just shrunk a little in the wash and figures they'll loosen up after an hour or two of wearing them. He puts on his belt, not even realizing it's a notch looser than usual, and slips on his shoes. Finally, he grabs his back and heads downstairs to the kitchen.

His father is sitting at the table with the newspaper in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. He doesn't even bother to look up at Tim when he walks in. Even though he probably doesn't care, Tim makes it a point to say something to him as he opens the fridge.

"Um, good morning."

His father shifts his paper out of his line of view and gives him a blank stare, "You remember what we talked about last night don't you?"

His shoulders slump in defeat and he rolls his eyes, "Yes, I remember."

How could he forget? He's been trying to push it out his mind but of course one of his parents would remind him. He should've just kept his mouth shut. Slowly his father folds his paper up and fixes his suit, getting ready to leave. Tim wonders if he really has to go or if it's just his presence that makes his father stand up.

"Good. Don't screw this up."

"I won't," Tim sighs in reply. He would've just preferred a 'have a good day' or maybe even an 'I love you' if at all possible.

He's knows that he's not to get either of those. Instead he surveys the fridge and decides to just grab a glass of orange juice and some pop tarts from the pantry. He'd prefer to get out of there before his mother decides to walk in and remind him of last night too. He doesn't need briefing. It's not like this is some top secret save the world mission he's going on. He's just trying to get Dick to like him…well not really because despite a few bumps in the road, Dick already seems to like him. He's more or less just trying to convince Dick that he likes him in return.

He grabs two packs and walks out the door to his car, eating them as he drives. The toaster pastries don't exactly taste good and have absolutely no nutritional value, but they're quick and save him from having to stick around his house. When he pulls into the parking he throws the wrappers in the back of the car and exchanges them for his backpack.

Tim can already see Stephanie leaning against his locker as he draws closer to it. She smiles at him and moves over to let him unlock it, greeting him with a cheerful, "Morning!" as she does.

At least somebody in his life knows how to properly greet someone. It brings a small smile to his face, "Hey Steph, what's up?"

"Not much, nothing any more interesting than usual. What's up with you? You're looking particularly glum this morning."

"Am I?" he asks. He honestly hadn't even noticed.

"Yeah actually. It's kind of bumming me out. Something wrong?"

He pulls two books from his locker and shuts it so he can look right at Stephanie when he explains things to her. "Well, I have to reapply to the Master's Program at Gotham."

One, slender blonde eyebrow creeps up in confusion. "Reapply?"

"Yeah, a spot opened up because somebody declined or something."

"Isn't that a good thing? This s is what you wanted right, so now you get a second shot. I don't understand."

Tim starts heading in the direction of Conner's locker, where he knows he and Bart will most likely be. Steph falls into next him, still waiting for an answer.

"Yeah I guess it is…I just don't want to go through the effort of reapplying to be rejected again."

"Geez Tim, have a little confidence. What makes you think you'll be rejected again?"

Confidence has never exactly been one of Tim's strong qualities and he can thank his parents for that. "I got rejected the first time and I haven't done anything spectacular since the last time I applied to sway them in my direction."

Steph looks him up and down and he wishes he knew what she was thinking. It's so hard to tell with her sometimes. "Well, if you really feel like that, why do it?"

"I _have_ to, as in my parents are forcing me to. It's either I get in this time or they cut me off even sooner."

She immediately picks up on the sound of defeat in his voice. It's like he's already given up before he's started again. She takes the arm closest to him and puts it over his shoulder. "Just don't give up so easily alright? They were stupid for not taking you the first time. I'm sure if you don't write yourself off so soon, they'll see that they made a mistake the first time. If not, you can always come stay with me. I'm not rich or anything, but I'll totally share my toys with you."

He playfully rolls his eyes. Out of everyone he knows Steph always seems to have something positive to say. "Toys?" he laughs, "Aren't we a little old for those?"

"Not these kinds," she winks.

He narrows his brows and thinks for a second before he understands what she means. He's almost immediately disgusted. She giggles as he pushes her arm off of his shoulder, "Aw gross Steph!"

"What? I was just trying to help," she jokes and Tim just frowns in disgust, "Well fine. I take the offer back then."

"Please do."

"Already done."

"Thank you," he says before things calm down a little. He lets out a sigh. "There is um, one thing," he offers. He wonders what her opinion on Dick being on the board will be. He trusts Stephanie. Maybe if she sees it as a positive, he can too?

"Is it a good thing?"

"I don't know. I was hoping you could tell me."

Stephanie is definitely a little confused and a little leery of what her friend is about to tell her. Sometimes she and Tim don't exactly have the same idea of good news. "Okay, so what is it?"

"Well Dick, you know my boss Dick from the bakery-"

"Yes I know, don't drag it out."

"S-sorry, but well, he's like on the board now so he'll be helping to read applications and deciding who gets in or whatever."

She doesn't say anything at first, just nods. Tim knows not to interrupt her. Her lack of an immediate response just means that she's thinking. She scrunches her lips a bit and finally looks back at him. "I feel like that could totally be a good thing but…something tells me that you don't feel the same way."

"We haven't exactly seen eye to eye since I started working there."

"So start now," the young blonde offers, though it's obvious from his expression that is exactly opposite of what he was hoping to hear. She doesn't understand why Tim is so incredibly pessimistic sometimes. He seems so unwilling to want to put effort into anything and she's never been able to figure out the reason behind that. "Or don't. I'm not sure what to tell you Tim."

That's not the answer he wants to hear either, though she's running out of things to tell him. They're getting closer to Conner's locker and she's not sure if he'll want to keep the conversation up once they get there. Before they can get too close, she takes a hand to his shoulder and stops him in the hallway. "Look, I know he's not your most favorite person in the entire world and that the last thing you want to do is be friendly with him, but at least give it a chance. Maybe he can help you? I mean getting into the program is what you really wanted, isn't it?"

Honestly, he wasn't sure.

* * *

Tim's been mulling over what Stephanie said all morning and he still wasn't sure what to make of it. It wasn't like she had sided with his parents, but she kind of had all at the same time. Was he really supposed to just force himself to befriend Dick so he could get into the program? Its just… _God_ , it was Dick. The guy just bothered Tim. He could put up with him for only so long and only through so much before he started to irritate the shit out of him by merely being himself.

These were the thoughts that were going through his head as he mindlessly filled his tray in the cafeteria. He didn't snap out of it until he felt a hand on his shoulder, hitting him playfully.

"Someone's hungry today, skip breakfast this morning?"

"Huh?" he responded before turning around to see Conner grinning at him with Bart at his side. Conner simply pointed towards Tim's tray. He hadn't even noticed he'd put two of everything on it – two burgers, two fries, two desserts, two drinks. Even he was a little surprised. "Oh, I ugh…I hadn't even realized."

"Are you alright? You've seemed a little distracted today."

Tim shook his head and followed them towards the registers to pay. "Yeah, sorry. I have to reapply to the Master's thing at Gotham U. I've just had that on my mind all day."

"Reapply?" Bart asked without missing a beat. "Why?"

"Yeah, I thought that was over?"

Tim takes the seat across from the two of them. The seat beside him is left open for when Stephanie shows up, if she isn't busy in the library or something.

"It was, but a spot opened up so I guess I'm going to try for it again."

Conner raises an eyebrow, "You guess?"

"Yeah," he shrugs.

"Maybe I'm wrong, but it doesn't sound like you're all that excited about it."

"I'm not. I'm not even sure if I want to."

"Then don't do it."

Tim wishes it was just that easy. Like most of his friend's, Conner has fairly understanding parents. He claims he and his dad didn't always see eye to eye; but from what Tim can tell, they seem to get along pretty well. He's sure that Conner and Mr. Kent are closer than him and his own dad for sure.

"I can't just _not do it_."

"Parents?" Conner asks, straight faced and Tim just nods.

"Yeap."

Bart cocks his head to the side, seeming confused. "I thought they were gonna cut you off anyway? Why even bother?"

Though none of his friends really know how his parents are behind closed doors, they know they can be a little tough on him. They _are_ claiming to cut him off at the end of the year after all. Tim's not sure if they realize just how serious he was about that. He feels like his friends still think that the Drakes are going to change their minds at the last second. They're not. He knows that. He's not stupid or naive.

"Are they going to keep you in the will or whatever if you get in this time?"

"I don't even know. They didn't really say. All they said was that they'd cut me off sooner if I didn't."

Both Conner and Bart's eyes drop towards the table awkwardly. How can Tim say that so calmly, as if it's not a devastating problem? You don't just go from having everything handed to you on a silver platter to having nothing and being okay with it. Life doesn't work like that. They wonder if Tim really understands how the other half lives sometimes. Conner is middle class. Steph only has her mom. Bart has no parents and while they're not struggling, Wally works hard to make sure that they don't end up without their apartment.

Tim's lived a gated community his entire life. His parents are always driving the latest, most expensive cars. Hell, Tim's car is probably worth close to half of what his friend's homes are. His parents probably pay more in taxes than what the Kent's or Stephanie's mom makes a year, definitely more than Wally who just started working in the real world. Tim might not realize exactly what being cut off means.

"That doesn't scare you?" Bart asks.

Tim shrugs, "Well yeah of course…but I mean, they're going to do it anyway. It won't be that bad. I'll manage. I can get another job or something right? It can't be that different."

Bart and Conner just exchange a nervous glance before the smaller replies half-heartedly, "Yeah, dude, of course."

* * *

Tim pulls into the parking lot at work but can't immediately bring himself to go in. He's been busy thinking about how he's supposed to go in here and try to be, well, not himself. He knows the objective: manage to get Dick to give him the spot by convincing him they're friends, or _whatever_. It's just he isn't sure _how_ to go about that process. Just thinking about it is starting to make him anxious and he's starting to wish he would've stopped somewhere and picked up some food, but it's too late now. He's just going to have to suck it up and figure it out as he goes along.

He takes his usual post and for the first half hour he doesn't even see Dick, not that he's complaining about it. Once the afterschool rush is gone, Tim is just sitting behind the register twiddling his thumbs and kicking his feet to pass his idle time. In all his anxiousness, he forgot to bring a book with him. It doesn't take long for him to hear the familiar steps of Dick coming down the hallway though and Tim holds his breath for a second. He's not really sure how this is supposed to go, if he's supposed to just come on strong but he's just going to have to dive in headfirst now.

"Hey," starts Dick, poking his head out of the doorway, "How's it going out here?"

Dick almost always seems to ask him this, as though this is the most complicated job of all time. Tim shrugs, "Fine. I haven't really seen anybody for maybe fifteen minutes now."

"I figured as much, you sound bored."

"Kind of, but it's always like this after the first half hour…I'm sure you know that though."

"Yeah, it can definitely get really slow around here sometimes but it isn't that bad when you've got decent people to work with," he offers.

Tim cocks his head to the side, a little confused. " _Decent_?"

"Yeah," he nods, "Like friends."

"You refer to your friends as decent," the teen teases, "That isn't the most _endearing_ term you could use to describe them."

Dick thinks about it briefly before Tim recognizes a slight blush coming to his cheeks, "No, no I guess it's not huh?"

Suddenly, Tim senses opportunity. This is the perfect moment to use Dick's emotions to his own benefit and see where exactly they stand. If he can see that, then he can gage exactly how far he has to go to get what he wants…or what his parents want at least. "If that's how you describe your friends, I'd hate to hear what you say about me."

Dick frowns, looking hurt and Tim can't help but think that he's just too easy. "What do you mean? I…I know we had kind of a rough first few weeks, but I'd like to think we're friends."

"Are we?"

"We're not enemies," he says and he looks like he's feeling almost bad. After a second, Dick crosses the space between them and takes a seat on the counter by Tim. It's perfect. Sure, Tim knows he wasn't exactly the nicest person he could ever be towards Dick, but it's not as if he's going to lose any sleep over it. Dick however, if he's even half as childish as Tim thinks he is, just might feel guilty if Tim plays this right.

"There's a pretty big gray area between friends and enemies Dick…I just-well after _you know_ , I got the feeling I was just somewhere in there," he says complete with hand gestures to illustrate his point. It almost makes him want to gag. He never talks to Conner or Bart like this and thank God they've never talked to him like this. They've never had to figure out where their friendship stands before. They just knew. Honestly, he wouldn't even be having this stupid conversation and saying these things if it wasn't absolutely necessary.

"I didn't think you…I thought we were cool but-"

"And I thought we were just acquaintances, _maybe_? But I'd like to be, you know, friends I mean. I'd like to be civil and everything."

"Well yeah, so would I," he says taking a hand to Tim's shoulder. It takes everything he has for him not to cringe or pull away. If he has to live through a few weeks of Dick touching him, he'll take it. "I don't want you to hate working here or anything because of me Tim. I'd like us to be friends for the sake of that, if nothing else."

"Good then-" Tim starts, but he's cut off before he can finish.

"Am I interrupting something?" Barbara giggles from the hall doorway. Tim looks surprised, but Dick just rolls his eyes and hops down from the counter.

"No really," she laughs, "If you're having a guy moment or something, feel free to continue."

"As hilarious as that _isn't_ Barbara, we're actually done," he says walking towards her, "What's up though? Need something?"

"Yeah, I came out here for Tim actually," she says before turning towards him. The sudden attention definitely brings a little heat to his cheeks, which doesn't fail to go unnoticed by Dick. "Are you staying after tonight? I had some seasonal desserts I needed you to try."

Tim nods, trying not to sound too eager, "O-oh, yeah I can stay for a little bit."

She smiles before she and Dick exit laughing about something Damian did earlier. Tim goes back to swinging his feet from where he's sitting in the stool. He feels less anxious than he did earlier though. This might just be easier than he thought. If he can just manipulate Dick in his direction, he might just be able to weasel his way in. Lying and manipulation isn't really his style but maybe his mom was right, if acts like anybody other than himself he might have a chance.

* * *

"Okay so it's getting close to Fall and for that, I like to do some stuff with pumpkins and apples. Last year these were pretty popular, so I think these are the recipes I'm going to use again," Barbara explains as she sits across from Tim in their usual booth and motions towards the plate in front of her. "I've got chocolate chip pumpkin muffins, a caramel apple cupcake with caramel drizzle, pumpkin spice cake with cream cheese frosting, and apple spice tarts. Go ahead, tell me what you think."

Tim looks down at the plate and refrains from frowning. The apple he can live with, but pumpkin? He's never really been a fan of the pie and the idea of doing anything other than carving the strange orange fruit doesn't really sound all that appealing to him. Either way, Barbara hasn't steered him wrong before so he picks up a fork and tries the cake.

"So…"

To his surprise, this isn't the worst thing he's ever tasted. Actually he kind of likes it. "You know, this isn't as bad as I thought it was going to be."

"Oh, so you thought it was going to be bad?" she pouts playfully.

He throws his hand up in defense and swallows hard, "N-no, it's not that. I just, I've never really liked pumpkin, but this is actually good."

He takes another bite and she smiles, "Good, I'm glad you like it. Try the muffin next then."

He picks up the muffin next, and takes a deep breath. Pumpkin and chocolate chips? Regardless he puts it in his mouth and once again, it surprises him. Before he can even say anything Barbara can tell he likes it and she's beaming. He's glad he can make her happy, but she catches him off guard when she takes her hand and places on top of his. He knows it doesn't mean what he'd like it to mean, but still, she's like actually _touching_ him.

"You like this one too huh? I'm two for four."

"Yeah, it seems you are," he blushes, glancing down at where her hand is on top of his. Is everybody around here that touchy? No, probably not. The last time either Jason or Damian touched somebody, it was probably to cause them some sort of physical harm.

And speak of the devil, the minute he thinks of them they walk out from the back with Dick beside them. He and Jason are laughing while Damian scowls, which is nothing new. He's seen Jason loosen up a little but he has yet to see if Damian knows how to smile without actually forcing it.

"Hey Babs, we're out of here," Dick calls, "You and Tim gonna be alright?"

"Yeah," she says, and Tim notices that she still has yet to move her hand from its spot. He sees all three males look over at it, but the only reaction he wants to see is Dick's. If he takes it badly, Tim will know their conversation earlier didn't really mean anything. Instead, the older male shoots him a quick smirk and he almost wants to draw his hand back, maybe out of like courtesy, and he's not sure why. He doesn't though.

"Alright, see you later. Bye Tim."

They start to walk towards the door and before they're out Tim stutters out, "U-ugh, yeah, bye Dick."

He doesn't expect Jason to look over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. He's not sure what Jason's thinking but he just shoots him a quick wave and hopes that Jason was just expecting his own personal goodbye.

* * *

The past week or so, he and Dick have kind of been talking, at least for a few minutes every day. Tim's been trying to be nice, no matter how much it makes him sick to his stomach to be so fake. He's got an agenda, and it kind of makes him feel like a bad person but it's like survival of the fittest. He's doing what he has to. He's hoping that if he's nice enough for the next week or two, he can just weasel his way into talking about the Master's program.

So far it's proving to be just as stressful as he first thought it would be. Now that they've gotten past their differences and kind of worked their way towards the title of friends, he's finding that it's harder to put up this front and maintain the title than it was to actually obtain it. He hates smiling so much, letting Dick touch him, and pretending to actually give a shit about whatever it is they're talking about; but he has to and it has to be convincing. It's got him feeling like he always needs to be on his toes just in case, so Dick doesn't catch him being fake or slipping up. It sucks. And it's definitely had Tim acting off for the last few days.

He knows he hasn't been paying Conner, Bart, and Steph as much attention as he usually does; and that when he's been around them the last few days, he hasn't been a hundred percent there. It's just, this is his life he's worrying about. He's been feeling like he can't totally relax until he knows he's got the in with Dick and he can tell that to his parents. He's been so busy entertaining Dick and playing the part of friend, he hasn't even managed to bring up the Master's thing yet. If he brings it up too early, then his entire ploy will be obvious; but if he brings it up too late, he risks losing the spot altogether. It's just stressful and it's been taking a toll for sure.

He'd like to say that he's got it under control, or that he will soon, but he can't…not when he's found himself in his room at least three nights this week with an empty box or something or other by his in the morning when he wakes up. It sucks. It does, but he made this bed himself and now he has to lie in it.

In fact, he wakes up in it Friday morning. Usually he'd be glad that it's the end of the week, but he still has to work through the weekend, so it's not exactly benefitting him any. He crawls out of bed, groaning as his hand crunches a plastic wrapper hidden under his sheets. It's incredibly sad but he tries to put it in the back of his mind as he forces himself to shower. Slowly he trudges out of the shower and dries off, grabbing his uniform shirt and buttoning it up.

Everything seems to be fine until he gets to his pants. He doesn't think anything of it until he's got them all the way up and the button won't seem to stretch over to the hole. Its _close_ , but it just won't quite make it. Tim can't believe it. Sure, last week they were a little tight, but he assumed that was because they'd been washed and gotten _smaller_. Now it seems clear that he's just gotten _bigger_. He hasn't gotten bigger by a lot, nothing he can't conceal with his sweater, but nobody likes gaining weight, whether it's a few pounds or a ton.

Seeing as he just doesn't keep larger pants hidden in the back of his closet, even though he should because it's not like this is the first time he's ever had this issue, that would be an admittance of having a problem, and Tim doesn't think he has a problem…not one that serious at least. It's still bad enough that he knows he has to do something about it and he thinks he knows what that _something_ is.

He doesn't like it when it gets to this point. The eating part is kind of fun in a sick sort of way; but the gaining weight quickly and trying to lose it even faster is always the worst. It usually involves a sore throat and even sorer limbs; it's something he has to do though, unless he'd rather hear his parents ridicule him for gaining weight on top of everything else he does.

With his pants still undone, he searches around his room until he finds a temporary solution for his problem –a rubber band. It's perfect. He loops one end around his button and pulls the other end through the button hole in his pants, before then looping that end around the actual button too. It's a trick he picked up maybe a year or two ago when he first had this problem. It kept him from having to buy new pants and making his parents suspicious as to why. This way he can just cover the rubber band up with his belt, cover that with his sweater and go on about his day as if everything's fine…even though it's not, because while nobody else knows, he does and it's kind of a day ruiner. But what's he supposed to do? He can't tell anyone about what he's going through.

He knows he could probably vent to his friends, but he's done that enough here lately. They can't want to hear about his privileged kid problems all the time. Besides, he's been a little distant lately anyway. He'd rather just vent with food then constantly bother his friends, though so far that hasn't done much but force him to need new pants. He'd still Rather take his chances with that, than have any of his friends find out what's really going on…which is probably the reason Steph comes up to him at his locker before school Thursday morning with a glare on her face he knows is directed towards him.

"Tim," she says and by the tone of her voice, he can tell this is going to be serious.

"Um, hey?"

She wastes no time getting to the point, "You want to tell me why you've been ignoring my calls for over a week or acting detached when I actually see you?"

He turns away and takes a deep breath, taking a second to gather his thoughts. He can't exactly say, _'yeah sorry, I've been ignoring your calls at night because I'm too busy dealing with a box of Twinkies to talk to you,'_ or _'I've just been too stressed from faking this friendship with Dick to pay attention to you'._ In the end, he doesn't actually say anything.

"Bart and Conner say the same thing by the way, it's not just me."

He closes his locker door and turns to face her completely. "Steph can we not do this now please? I'm not in the mood." he states. His day's already started off bad enough. He really doesn't want to get into it with Stephanie too.

"Why not? You've been kind off all week. I'm just trying to make sure you're okay, especially considering the whole Dick-Master's program thing."

He knows Stephanie is being a good friend, but this is just bad timing. He's upset. He's stressed. He skipped breakfast, so he's hungry; and he's feeling overly self-conscious, for obvious reasons. "It's going fine. I'm fine. Everything's fine, okay?"

Tim glances down the hall, itching to just walk away from the conversation in general. Stephanie, of course, won't let him. She's always been a little on the stubborn side. Usually it would be a good thing. She can help keep Tim in line. Now though, well Tim's never had such a big issue on his plate and the last thing he's worrying about it whether he's acting 'okay' or not. His entire future is sort of riding on whether or not he's accepted into the Master's program this time.

"No it's not," she frowns at him. He catches her eye and immediately he has to look down. He doesn't like hurting her and he can tell he kind of is. "Tim?"

He answers, but doesn't look back at her. "Hmm?"

"You know I care about you right? I'm not just saying these things to bother you or cause you anymore stress than I'm sure you have with your job and college and school. I just…I don't want you to shut me out either…I me-mean none of us do."

Her tone is what really gets him. She sounds sad and it makes him feel guilty. "I'm sorry. I just, I've got a lot going on and I didn't really want to bother you guys with my problems all the time."

"You wouldn't be bothering us Tim."

He doesn't argue. It wouldn't help anything. He just lets her win. "Look, I'll do better okay?"

She raises an eyebrow and speaks to him in a more playful, whiny, tone, "You promise?"

The sound of her voice makes him laugh a little, and it'll probably be the only time he does all day. "Yes, I promise," he mocks.

"We'll see. You better not be lying to me Timothy."

* * *

"So…" Dick says that afternoon, sitting on the counter by Tim. "Barbara?"

The younger male can immediately feel himself starting to blush and it makes him feel like an idiot. Of course his body would betray him like that. This might literally be the worst day ever. "What about her?"

"Come on Tim," says Dick, rolling his eyes, "You like her right?"

He's caught off guard, by the whole conversation in general honestly. He doesn't know where this is coming from or what brought about this topic. He's not even sure what to say, and the first thing he manages is, "Ugh…"

"Well, it's not like you're into the cute blonde girl that came to see you that one day. Besides, I've seen the way you look at Babs."

Tim narrows his eyes, not exactly sure what's going on here. He has to be a little skeptical, especially after the day Dick accused him of wanted what he deemed as _his_. Sure, they've been getting along better since they had their 'friendly' conversation, but Tim still has his guard up just in case. If nothing else, this could be mildly embarrassing.

Even though he's been sort of pissy all day, for now he plays along. "That obvious, huh?"

"If you know what to look for."

Tim takes that as an allude to Dick's playboy-ish ways. He probably knows a thing or two about crushes and attraction and all that.

"Well, I know you two have a ugh… _thing_ going on between you. I'm not going to invade your territory if that's what this is about."

"Oh no," Dick's eyes go wide and his hands shoot up, "No, that's not why I bring it up. I know what I said before, but that's in the past right? And you know we're not dating or anything…"

"Are you suggesting something?" There's a little edge in his voice and he hopes Dick can take a hint and get to the point. He's not in the mood to waste time right now. Maybe it's because he hasn't eaten anything all day, but he's a little on edge.

Dick shrugs, "Maybe? I'm just throwing it out there…and she might have expressed having an eye on you too." He gives Tim a side glance and a suggestive smirk that almost idiot could decipher.

Tim raises and eyebrow and takes it all in for a second. Barbara? Having an eye on him? It's just a little hard to believe. It's not like he's never been hit on before, or gone on a date or anything of the sort. Barbara just seems a little out of his league. He assumed she was just being friendly when they split desserts and talked, not actually interested. Besides, she's gorgeous, could probably have any guy she wanted. She's had Dick, that's an accomplishment in itself. Plus, there's the age gap to think of and while Tim's all for older women, he didn't peg Barbara as the type for younger guys.

"You look apprehensive," the older male states after a few moments of silence.

Tim takes a deep breath and admits, "I might be." He can't say he's feeling the most confident today. Who would when they've got a rubber band holding their pants together under their work hoodie? It's not exactly a self-esteem booster.

"Not sure how to approach the situation?"

"Not at all."

"Are you going to even try or…" When Tim shrugs, Dick just rolls his eyes in mild frustration, "You're not a fan of being out of you element, are you?"

"Who is?"

"I guess most people aren't, but some people are at least willing to branch out, try new things."

"If you hadn't noticed, I'm not really a fan of branching out," Tim deadpans.

"You like being in control. Believe me, I've noticed. You seem to get a little anxious when things make you uncomfortable."

Tim immediately opens his mouth to counter the statement, but he can't say it isn't true. He does get kind of anxious. He just thought he was better at hiding it. "No…well maybe a little. Doesn't everybody though? It's a natural reaction."

"Maybe…maybe not…but you can't let you hold that back all the time. Sometimes you have to, you know, make a move and see what comes of it."

"As true as that probably is, I doubt that advice would work for everybody."

Dick just shrugs, seeing that he probably isn't going to get anywhere. He put it out there at least. Tim can do what he wants with it. "You'll never know until you try."

"Bu-," Tim starts but doesn't get to finish. He's interrupted by Jason stepping into the lobby and pointing towards Dick.

"Hey, Barbara needed you in the back for something."

Dick nods, but Jason lingers, looking between him and Tim for a second with a raised eyebrow. He crosses his arms and finally Dick rolls his eyes and says, "Tell her I'm coming alright?" Before he leaves, he turns towards Tim, "Just think about what I said okay?"

* * *

It's almost the end of the night and Tim's definitely been thinking. What the hell is he supposed to do with what Dick said? So Barbara is… _interested_ …As much as he'd _like_ to, he's probably not going to do anything about it. He's got too much to worry about, like schmoozing Dick or fitting back into his pants, to worry about love or sex or whatever it is Barbara wants. Thinking about how to even approach the subject would only create more problems he doesn't need. It's not like he doesn't like her, it's just he wouldn't even know how to go about it and he doesn't really even have time to think it through either.

It's as he's mulling this over in his mind when Jason comes out with a cake in hand to stick in the display case. There's only ten, maybe fifteen, minutes left until they close. He doesn't really need to bring out a new item, but the case does look nicer when everything is filled he guesses.

Tim doesn't even see Jason approach him until he's right beside him and speaking to him, "Can I ask you something?"

It shocks Tim out of his thoughts. He even jumps a little before turning towards Jason, "U-um yeah. What's going on?"

Jason crosses his arm over his chest and stares Tim right in his eyes, "What's going on with you and Dick?"

The first thing Tim does is pull his gaze away from Jason's and shift it down towards the floor. "I…ugh, what do you mean?"

"Well, you two seem a lot _friendlier_ than before. When did that happen?"

Tim's not sure what's going on or why for that matter. Is Jason interrogating him? Did he do something wrong? "A little more than a week ago I guess. We talked."

"And so now you're best friends?"

He thinks about answering but before another unconfident question can leave his mouth, his face is shooting up and he's narrowing his eyes. He's not sure if he's being challenged but it sure feels like it. "Why does it matter?"

"I'm just surprised is all," Jason shrugs, seeming incredibly nonchalant all of a sudden. That must be a practiced trait in Wayne Manor because Tim's seen Dick use that move all too well too. "I mean, after what he said to you before, I just wasn't really expecting you guys to resolve things like that."

"What he said to me?" Tim questions.

"Yeah, you know, about him doing you a favor and staying on his good side so on and so forth," Jason summarizes, complete with hand motions.

"You know about that?"

"Yeah, I'm his _brother_. Who do you think he vented to afterwards?"

It makes sense, he guesses. Dick is a social creature. Tim should've expected him to mention their little chat to someone. As if he could've really expected the older male to keep it to himself.

"What's your point?"

"Look, I could honestly care less who you choose to talk to or be friends with or _whatever_. However, I actually kind of like you, I don't _hate_ you, so…Just be careful alright?"

"What do you mean?"

"Dick isn't as, _clueless_ , as he seems. I know you weren't that fond of him before and I don't know what's changed now, but something's clearly different. Whatever that reason is, I hope for your sake it's genuine."

Tim raises an eyebrow and tilts his head slightly. He wonders if this is some sort of threat. Jason and Dick are brothers, they have to be protective of each other right; and Jason looks like he can be sort of a scary guy. He could definitely be intimidating.

"Why?"

"You seem like a decent kid, _shitty parents_ , but decent kid and because of that, I just…I'd rather not see my brother eat you alive."

* * *

Tim's grateful when Barbara tells him that she has somewhere to be after work, but that they can hang out together tomorrow. After this morning and then Dick and finally Jason, he's not really in the mood to stick around. Besides, if what Dick said was true, then she'd probably be expecting Tim to make a move or something and he still isn't sure what to do about that…then again now he's not sure if he should believe Dick at all after what Jason said. Maybe this is all part of some plot to humiliate him. Tim thought he was going to play Dick, but what if Dick has plans to play him?

That's a depressing thought. If that's the case, then Tim is definitely screwed. There goes his lifestyle, there goes his trust fund, and there goes his family. They may not be the best parents ever, but they are the only parents he's ever had. They kept him. That has to count for something, doesn't it?

As of this moment, Tim's not really sure what he's doing. He's been putting in the effort for almost two weeks. He's going to have to resubmit his application pretty soon here and he'd feel better doing it knowing that all of his effort wasn't for nothing. He's been ignoring his friends because of this and upsetting them isn't worth it. Plus, he's stress eating again and it's starting to get bad and that's definitely not worth it. He wishes there was some way to know, to know who is actually holding the cards. Dick holds the cards as far as his job is concerned. He'd like to know he at least holds the cards in this hand.

He hears Barbara in the back, saying something to Damian and it hits him. _Her_. That's how he'll figure it out. He'll test it out and see if Dick was serious or not. If he makes a move on Barbara and she accepts it, he'll know Dick was being serious and probably isn't trying to play him. If she rejects his advance, then it'll be obvious that Dick's gaining his trust to ultimately ruin him and probably worse than just being turned down by a pretty girl.

As he works out the kinks in his head, all he can seem to focus on is what's going to happen if Dick's screwing with him instead. It'll be pretty bad if he is. Just _thinking_ about how he won't get into the program and how mad his parents would be is making him restless enough. Everything he'd ever worked for would be over and suddenly he be going into the real world with nothing all because of Dick Grayson, a bakery, and some stupid business program. As much as he'd like to say that it wouldn't be that bad, that he would figure it out, he wasn't so sure. He couldn't even keep a handle on the way he ate, let alone, try a get a handle on his entire life once his parents disowned him.

The more he thought about it, the more he panics internally. His day couldn't have been worse, and it's only about to go downhill from here because he's getting the feeling, the one he always gets when he knows he just wants to drown all of his problems in food. Every part of his rational mind is telling him not to do it, screaming, begging him to just go home. If he waits it out it'll probably just go away, but he seldom waits it out. Instead he finds himself grabbing a box and heading towards the display case. He fills it with a dozen random cupcakes and then swipes them to one of his cards before getting in his car to drive home.

He knows he shouldn't. It's a terrible idea because after this, there's no turning back. This is when things usually start to get bad, well they're already bad, so worse. He knows he should stop now. His pants were a clear indication of that. If he touches even one of these cupcakes he's going to feel disgusting. He knows that. He's been feeling gross enough all day without actually eating anything. He knows he's not fat, but he's gone up a pants size and that makes him _feel_ fat…and feeling fat makes him feel depressed, and being depressed makes him want to eat and eating makes him feel like a failure. That makes him feel out of control and then all he wants is to feel in control again.

He pulls into the driveway and stares at the box in the passenger seat. He doesn't _have_ to eat it. He definitely _shouldn't_ eat it, but he's just got so much on his mind and so much is happening. He'd just like to take a second to relax, clear his mind, calm down a little. So he turns the car off and opens the box. He pulls the first cupcake out and carefully undoes the wrapping paper surrounding it. Finally he closes his eyes and draws the cake to his mouth. The minute his lips touch down, it's like he's almost instantly calm. He feels okay for a second and it's a good feeling. It's like he can think straight. He wastes no time swallowing the first one and moving onto the second and then the third. Even when he's several cupcakes sure he's had his fill, he grabs the next one and forces it down. From then on his pace is slower, but he doesn't stop. Once he's started, once he lets it get to this point, he _can't_ stop, not until everything is done.

He finishes the last bite of the last cupcake and takes a second to try and catch his breath. Something as effortless as eating shouldn't take the wind out of you like this, but it surprising. It's always harder to breathe after a binge. His stomach aches, _a lot_ , and if his pants were too tight before, even with this rubber band giving him a little wiggle room, they're still uncomfortable. He doesn't want to get up, or even move a muscle. He just wants to lean back in his car seat and, well, die because this is just pitiful.

He just sat in his car and ate an entire box of cupcakes by himself. He's outgrowing his clothes again, he knows what that's like. He knows what he's going to have to do now, but yet he still couldn't stop himself. He's sick and disgusting and every bit as pathetic as his parents think he is. And even though he felt fine while he was doing, he feels like shit now that it's over, now that what he's been doing to himself has once again caught up with him. Sometimes he wishes he knew a different way to vent, but he imagines if he wasn't eating he'd probably be doing something like cutting and the way he sees it, this is the lesser of the two evils. Eating doesn't leave scars, stretch marks maybe, but Tim would really have to let himself go for that to ever happen. He's never been _that_ bad or that big.

As he thinks about how out of control he's let this become again, tears start to brim his eyes. Tim doesn't let them fall though, because he can fix this. If nothing else, he can do something about this. He always does. So after a few more deep breaths and gathering the will power to actually move, he grabs his book bag and drags his feet slowly into his house. He just wants to make it to his bathroom where he can do some damage control before all the calories he just shoved down his throat start to settle in his stomach. He's about to trudge up the stairs when his mother calls him from the living room.

"Timothy, come here for a second?"

Of course she would, and of all the times. He bites his tongue and walks into the room, feeling more anxious with every step. Every second he spends away from his bathroom is another calorie settling somewhere on his body. She motions for him to take a seat across from her and reluctantly he sets his bag down on the couch and takes a seat.

"So," she says, crossing her legs and looking at him with curious eyes, "How are things?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you _think_ I mean Timothy? I'm not asking you about your day."

His leg is beginning to shake as he thinks about getting out of this conversation and bolting upstairs. "Fine, making progress I guess."

"Have you resubmitted your application yet?"

"Not yet," he answers, glancing at the doorway anxiously.

"And what exactly are you waiting for?"

"I ugh…I guess I was just trying to focus on Dick first. I was going to handle it."

"You better. I hope you're not stalling with hopes that we'll forget. You remember the repercussions if you fail to secure the spot this time, right?"

He just nods.

"Good. I'm glad we're seeing eye to eye here. Your father will be home in an hour and we'll have dinner shortly after that."

"Mhmm," he answers as he bolts up. He regrets that immediately, because his stomach doesn't seem to enjoy the idea of rapid movement.

He makes it upstairs as fast as he can and slips into the bathroom attached to his bedroom, closing the door and locking it behind him. He stares at the toilet, an appliance he's all too familiar with. He's spent plenty of time draped over it, puking his guts out and he wishes he could just say it was because he was drunk but he's not that lucky.

Even though nobody's ever caught him before, he runs some water to help muffle the sound of him retching. Next he grabs an old toothbrush and kneels down in front of the seat, forcing the end with no bristles down his throat. He's done this enough that his gag reflex isn't that strong anymore. It's a lot easier to throw up now that when he first started. After a gag or two, its working and cupcakes definitely do not taste as good coming up as they do going down, even if they're not completely digested. The bile burns his throat and makes his eyes tear up, but he doesn't stop. It feels too good. Just like eating, it's another high. It makes him feel less frantic, more in control and he likes it. It's a relief.

He keeps throwing up until he's just dry heaving. He has to, to make sure there's nothing left. There can't be anything left. Anything is too much. Finally, when he's done, he stands up and goes to the sink to rinse his mouth out and brush his teeth. Once he's done, it's like it never even happened…that is,

_until it happens again_.

* * *

Janet Drake, has never been one for clutter. She may not do the cleaning herself, but she still will not tolerate a disheveled house. It reflects a lack or order and discipline that she just will not have. So when Tim leaves his backpack on her newly upholstered Venetian sofa, she is mildly outraged. She swears he does things like this on purpose sometimes, to irritate her, because he simply can't be that careless and that stupid.

She doesn't want to actually lay her hands on the old thing, he refuses to use the new designer one she bought his a few weeks ago in favor of this disgrace; but if she sends the help to take it upstairs she won't be able to scold Timothy herself. So she sucks it up and takes one of the straps in her hand and takes the bag upstairs to his room.

She knocks, but there's no answer. The door isn't locked, so she walks in and the first thing she notices is that she can hear water running in the bathroom. She could care less what he's doing. She just wants to make sure he knows not the leave his dusty junk on her expensive couch ever again. Janet is about to take her hand to his bathroom door when she hears it, the distinct sound of someone throwing up, even with the water running she knows that sound. But why would Tim be…he didn't seem sick earlier. He did seem to be in a rush though, and why would someone be in a rush to throw up unless – _no._

There was _no way_.

That would just be a joke. But then again, this is Timothy that we're talking about…She had an idea, but she'd have to know for sure before she could say anything and that would require research. She takes a seat on her son's bed and pulls out her phone. She logs into the family banking apps and begins to pull up Tim's accounts and cards. She goes through the purchases and some of them are regular things like filling up his gas tank or picking up extra school supplies, but as she goes through she sees impractical amounts of money frequently spent at fast food restaurants, grocery stores, and even a few swipes at the bakery he works at –including one from today.

So she was right.

Her son, Timothy Drake, had an eating disorder. It made sense, if she really thought about it. The way his moods were, or the way he ate sometimes. She remembered once or twice asking him if he'd put on weight. She'd seen him work out excessively some nights or heard him roaming around in the kitchen on others. So at least he wasn't addicted to coke or underage gambling, sure that was a plus; but it still wasn't a good thing. What would happen if everyone found out? How would that make them look? He _definitely_ wouldn't grab the last slot in the program now. Why would anyone trust Timothy to run a business if he couldn't even keep his life straight?

Of all the things to happen to all the children in Gotham, of course this would happen to hers. She wasn't unfamiliar with eating disorders, not in this society. She knew how these things worked and she was sure with Timothy it would be no different, but they couldn't do anything about it or tell anyone. She was trying to figure out how to approach this, when she heard the familiar sound of a doorknob turning.

* * *

Tim stepped out into his bedroom, wiping the stray water from around his mouth with the back of his sleeve, when he saw the last person he wanted to see sitting on his bed. For a brief second his heart stopped as he stuttered, "M-mom? What are…what are you doing in my room?"

"Well," she starts casually, "I came up here to tell you to keep your disgusting backpack off of my Venetian sofa, but I think there's something else we should probably discuss instead."

"And what's that?" he asks, holding his breath and praying that she's not about to say anything about what he was just doing.

"I know what you were doing in there."

He swears he can literally feel his heart drop in his chest. She can't be serious…there was no way, after all this time. Almost immediately he can feel his body start to shake and his voice waver, "Wh-wha-"

"So what is it? You're a bulimic now or what?"

"I'm not-"

"You binge and then you throw up right?" she stares at Tim for some sort of clarification but he doesn't answer. She can see he's still devastated by the fact that she found out anything at all. "I said, you binge and then you throw it all back up don't you?"

He looks away and barely nods.

"That's what I thought."

"It's not that simple. It's not always like that. It's not always that b-" That _bad_ , he wants to say, but he's not sure who he'd be trying to convince.

"How long? How long have you been doing, _well_ whatever it is you're doing?"

"A few years I guess. I-it comes and goes…"

"But of course, it's come back right now, of all the times."

Tim wishes she would just get to the point instead of dragging it out like this. He knows she's pissed. She's always upset with him, more often than not actually. He can imagine whatever's going to be done, he's not going to like it. "S-so what are you going to do about it?"

"I haven't decided yet. But I can tell you what we're _not_ going to do. We're not going to tell anybody, especially not your father. He's so dead set on you getting into this program, if he has to send you away to get some sort of help or have you quit your job to attend therapy, he'll be infuriated. This would be easier on all of us if you would just stop."

He raises an eyebrow. She can't be serious. "Just stop? It doesn't exactly work like that."

"Or you're just too pathetic to try, and I think we both know which one it is. This better not get in the way of you getting into this program. This isn't going to be some sort of excuse, so don't even try it. I will not have you embarrassing this family again because of that or because of this. Figure out some self-control and try to see to it that one else finds out about this, understand?"

He nods, "Y-yeah, I understand."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, theres a lot to think about this chap. I hope you enjoyed and Id love to hear what you think, esp regarding the Tim/Dick situation. who do you think is really playing who? plz, leave a comment


	6. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soo i know its been a long time, dont shoot me x| im sorry
> 
> ive mulled over and written and edited this chapter a buncha times, thats what took so long. i think i finally got it to where i wanted, or at least as good as its gonna get
> 
> anyways...thanks again for the reviews and things :) i shouldve updated sooner ik
> 
> i hope u enjoy this chp.
> 
> i do not own yj
> 
> btw i didnt really edit this as well as i couldve...i apologize in advance :/

6

"Eat you alive?" asks Stephanie over the phone.

"Yeah," answers Tim dryly, "That's what he said."

He hears the familiar sound of laughing on the other end and he doesn't understand what's so funny about this conversation. " _A-hem_."

"I'm sorry Tim, it's just…it's kind of funny, like in a cheesy high school TV drama sort of way. I don't think you have too much to be worried about and even if you do, at least Jason was nice enough to warn you right?"

Tim dropped down onto his bed and looked up at the ceiling above him. He just needed to talk to someone and help keep his mind off the fact that his mother caught him in the bathroom just a few hours earlier. "I guess so. I just…I don't know what to think honestly. I can't tell if he's really looking out for me, or if they're all just looking out for each other and then Dick told me that-" he hesitates before actually finishing the statement. He tells Steph a lot but he's not sure if he should tell her about the Barbara thing. That might just be a little much.

"Dick told you _what_?"

"Oh n-nothing. It was just something stupid about the hours next week," he lies, "I'll just be happy when it's all over and I don't have to worry about this anymore."

"I'll be happy for you. I never imagined having a job and applying to college could be _this_ stressful for anyone, but you seem to be handling it well."

Tim rolls his eyes at that, grateful that Steph's not here to see him. She has no idea how he's really handling it and he's happy about that. It's bad enough that his mom found out and is probably judging him right now as she lies in bed. He doesn't need Stephanie or anyone else judging him too. "Thanks, I'm trying I guess. I should've just gotten a job somewhere else, anywhere else."

"Why don't you just quit and apply somewhere else? Does it really matter where you work as long as you just have a job?"

"Ha," Tim scoffs at Steph's obvious naivety. It's almost kind of cute. "At this point, I'm pretty sure that's out of the question. I don't think there's any other job on earth that would be good enough. If I quit this one, my parents would never let me live it down no matter what other job I managed to land. I could be the president and they'd still be mad at me for quitting."

"Your parents are difficult," she states with a defeated sigh a few moments later. It seems as if almost all of her suggestions get turned down.

He glances around his room and offers an unseen shrug, "I know, but it's not like I can do anything about it so…"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but it doesn't seem like you _try_ too hard to do anything either. I mean all you ever seem to do is shoot all of my ideas down without any real consideration."

It's hard not to take it the wrong way. Almost immediately Tim's defensives are shooting up. " _Try?_ And what exactly do you propose I do in this situation Steph? I can either do what they tell me to or I can get out of my house. I know we like to joke that I could come stay with you, but I highly doubt your mother would welcome in another mouth to feed with open arms."

"I just…Have you ever tried, I don't know, maybe talking it out?"

"Why would I?"

Her voice seems to shrink as she answers, "I don't…I don't know Tim. Maybe just to see what would happen, to at least say you did? It's like you give up without-you know what? I was just trying to help, but never mind. Just forget I asked okay?"

He shrugs it off and rolls over in his bed onto his stomach. Maybe he's rushing to end the conversation, but he suddenly doesn't feel the urge to vent anymore. "Look Steph, I gotta go. I have to work tomorrow."

"Y-yeah, alright. Talk to you tomorrow?"

"Y-yeah sure, tomorrow…" he offers before just hanging up on the phone call altogether. There's no point in even getting into addressing his parents, so why even continue the conversation? It was just going to lead to nowhere anyway.

* * *

Saturday morning Tim is up and all he wants to do is crawl further into his bed and possibly stay there forever. He's got a million things running through his head and it's hard to just focus on one of them because they all seem pretty overwhelming. He tries to handle the basics before he even begins to consider everything else going on in his life. He gets dressed first, which is sort of an ordeal in itself now. Then he grabs his keys and makes his way downstairs.

He walks past the kitchen, figuring that he can just grab something on the way if he gets hungry. He doesn't have much of an appetite between thinking of what happened last night or what Jason said or what he's supposed to do with Barbara or anything lately. Of course, just before he makes it to the door, he can hear the shrill sound of his mother's voice calling him, " _Timothy!_ "

He stops and completely regrets doing so. He should've just walked out of the door and pretended not to hear her but it's too late now. Slowly Tim appears in the kitchen doorway and he can see his mother sitting at the breakfast table with a fake smile plastered all over her face and food laid out in front of them.

Janet extends her hands towards one of the seats and gestures for him to sit down, "Join me for a second?" she says. It sounds like a question, but he knows it's an order. Awkwardly, he takes the seat across from her and sits down with his hands in his lap. Tim can only imagine what she's going to say after she caught him throwing up last night. It could literally be anything.

They sit in silence for the first few moments and he just watches her sip orange juice or takes bites from her plate. After another minute, she raises an eyebrow and points to the food spread out in the middle of the table. "Eat something before you have to go to work."

He looks around but shakes his head. He's not really sure when he'll be comfortable eating in front of his mom again, especially if she's going to be watching him at every meal like she is now. "I'm n-I'm not hungry."

She raises a skeptical eyebrow and looks him up and down with what he assumes to be disgust, "Really? You honestly expect me to believe that."

He fidgets in his seat and takes a deep breath but doesn't say or do anything.

"Don't be dramatic about this Timothy. I told you to figure out some sort of control, not just take it to another extreme."

"I'm not."

"You better not be. I'm not going to let this phase, or whatever it is you're going through, embarrass this family. In fact, I refuse."

"I know."

"And I don't want you're strange habits drawing any suspicions either, so handle it."

"I will. I-I am."

"So be normal and eat something." Helplessly he watches as she puts food on his plate. She forces the plate towards him and narrows her eyes, waiting for him to start eating.

He looks between the plate and her, biting his lip. "I don't think trying to force it like this is going to help the problem."

"Well maybe if you started eating regular amounts and the regular times you wouldn't feel the need binge and then throw it all up afterwards."

Tim sighs, realizing this isn't an argument he's going to win and if he keeps arguing he's going to be late for work. It's not like he's never eaten when he wasn't hungry before, but it was usually his choice. Something about this feels wrong. Regardless he forces down the breakfast under her watchful eye so that he can leave.

"Was that so hard?" she asks when he's done and all he can do is shake his head. He feels like he's going to throw up and for once it isn't because he's doing it himself.

Not wanting to spend another minute in her presence, Tim stands up and walks towards the doorway without a word. Janet lets out a condescending laugh and calls out to him, "Bye Timothy! Have a good day!"

* * *

The entire drive to work, Tim just feels sick. There's an uneasiness in his stomach that's different than any of the times he ever thrown up. He can't imagine what his next few months are going to be like if his mother is going to try and regulate what and when he's eating whenever she gets the chance. He wonders if she really even cares or if this is just something else she thinks she can use to control his life like the Master's program? It wasn't fair honestly. This was the one thing he was supposed to have to complete control of in his life and she was even finding a way to ruin that. He's definitely upset, but he doesn't get a chance to really think about it before he's pulling into to parking lot of Barbara's and mechanically dragging himself into the building.

Everyone else is already there starting their jobs and so he follows suit, taking a seat behind the counter. He doesn't even pretend to be interested in what's going on around the bakery. He lays his chin in his hand and rings up the occasional pastry. It isn't long before someone notices how off he seems to be. It's not that he ever really looks all that interested in being there, but today he looks especially distant.

"Is something wrong?" he hears over his shoulder.

There are no customers in the bakery at the moment so he glances over his shoulder and then turns around in his stool, "Hmm?"

Barbara frowns, looking concerned, "I asked if you were okay. You're not sick or anything are you?"

His eyebrows shoot up. He's honestly a little surprised. He knew he wasn't putting one hundred percent into work today but he didn't think it was so obvious that someone had to come talk to him about it. Tim's just thankful it isn't Dick that comes to talk to him. He's not sure if he could handle all that right now.

"S-sick? No, I'm not sick. I'm fine actually."

"Oh, well are you sure everything's alright? You just seem a little off today."

Tim's about to just nod it off and go on with his moping, but then he realizes it wouldn't be conducive to his future plans. He's not sure, but he doesn't think Barbara would continue to be interested if she thought he was mentally unstable or something. Why she's interested at all is beyond him, or if she really even is, but he'd at least like his chance to find out. So he sucks it up for a second and decides now would be as good a time as any to plant a seed and see her reaction.

"I seem off?" he forces a smirk, and straightens his posture a little, "How am I usually?"

"Well you're always a little quiet and laid back, but today you seem preoccupied, like your mind is somewhere more important."

"So you keep tabs on me?"

An embarrassed smile forces its way onto her face and the red head tries to play it off by rolling her eyes, "No I do not keep tabs on you. I'm far too busy running a bakery to notice what you're doing."

"Oh, so you ignore me. Barbara I'm hurt." He jokingly brings a hand to his chest in mock pain. She laughs a little before he notices her smile fading.

"Why do you always do that?" she asks.

Tim has no idea what she's talking about, "Do what?"

"Call me by my whole name all the time. You know you've been working here a few weeks now and we're friends right? You don't have to be so formal. It's not like I call you Timothy or anything."

"I didn't realize that was a problem," he offers, genuinely confused. "Would you prefer I call you something else, like Babs…or what about Barbie?"

Immediately her face scrunches up, "Eww no, not Barbie…Babs, Babs is fine. Unless you've got something better you'd like to run by me?" She offers a smile and the way she starts to tilt her head or "casually" twirl her hair in her finger isn't lost on Tim by any means. Maybe she is interested? He definitely plans on, or maybe _needs_ , to find out.

"Can't think of anything right now, but I'll think on it and maybe I'll run them by you after work?"

"Cool, I've got some new cupcakes I'd like you to try anyway." They exchange smiles and nods and just before Barbara goes back to the kitchen she looks over her shoulder and asks, "But you really are okay right?"

He isn't expecting that, her to _actually_ care. He thought she was just asking to make sure he wouldn't get sick all over the pastries or scare away customers with his attitude, but she might have been asking to check on him. The edges of his lips curl up a little and he shrugs, "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks."

* * *

It's around lunchtime when Tim feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and it surprises him. He doesn't really text during work, not really. Sometimes Bart or Stephanie send him some of those ridiculous internet memes they see or Conner might ask about an assignment, but that's really it. So when his phone says that he has a message from his mom, he's definitely surprised. His mother never texts him. She's more of the phone calls and irritated voicemails type of parent.

Reluctantly, he checks the message and the first thing he thinks is that he wishes he hadn't. Is it too much to ask for a simple text that says 'I love you' or 'have a nice day'? Even Wally texts Bart words of encouragement on days he has a test or a meet and they're just cousins. The message is far from encouraging; instead it reads _'REMEMBER…DON'T OVERDUE IT'_.

He slips his phone back into his pocket without a reply. He's too busy focusing on the sick feeling that he had finally gotten over, crawling its way back into his stomach. If that's what she was going to choose to be her first text to her son, he would rather she had just never texted him at all. So far all's she's done is managed to make him feel more ashamed than he already did.

When Dick finally comes in to relieve him of his duties for his lunch break, Tim is all too eager to leave. For once, instead of going to the back to read, he actually gets in his car. He keeps telling himself that he's just going to drive around to blow off steam, but even he isn't surprised when he pulls into the nearest fast food drive-thru. The only thing that text made him want to do was go out and binge more. He'd like to think that he's sitting in the car ordering enough food for two or three people as a way of spiting his mother, but that's not true. He's only hurting himself in the long run. He knows that…which is what leads him to the bathroom of a gas station down the street from his job, throwing up his lunch all before he goes back to work.

* * *

Usually she wouldn't care so much. Stephanie and Tim have disagreements all the time and they get over it. It's just that with everything that's been going on in his life, she feels like arguing with him last night just added to it. So, she decides to be the bigger person and just go apologize.

She's hoping he's on his lunch break right now so they can talk freely for a little bit. He says that usually he just reads in the back so that's what she's banking on when she walks in. The first thing she notices is that Dick Grayson is sitting behind the counter and her stomach knots up a little bit with nervousness. Sure, he's just a regular guy but…well, nobody should look this perfect. It's intimidating.

The second he notices her, Dick is looking up and smiling. "Hey, I remember you. You're Tim's friend…Stephanie right?"

She nods slowly as she walks towards the counter. She's hoping that the blush on her cheeks isn't that noticeable. "Yeah."

"Well, I'm Dick," he says pointing to his chest, "You know, just in case you didn't remember."

"O-oh no, I remember."

"Good to know."

She smiles and before she can embarrass herself but doing something like twirling her hair around her fingers, a move she's sure he's seen a thousand times, Stephanie looks around.

"Is Tim in the back?" she asks.

"Um, no actually. He left."

"O- _oh_." She can't say she isn't surprised. Of all the days for Tim to leave, of course it would be when she comes to make sure there were no hard feelings from last night. "Well I ugh…I guess-"

"You can stay if you want and wait for him. He should be back soon."

The thought of sitting in the same room with Dick Grayson is kind of nerve wracking but like a mini dream come true in Stephanie's eyes, like the equivalent of meeting your celebrity crush. She just hopes she doesn't embarrass herself.

Dick eyes Stephanie up and down, and he has to say he finds her obvious discomfort adorable. She's nervous around him and that's cute. It's better than having a girl throw themselves at him to the point where they humiliate themselves. It's a lot more endearing. He was honestly surprised when Tim told him they weren't dating. Something tells Dick they'd be good together, but then again it's Tim. He's like oblivious to most aspects of life in general.

"So, why are you looking for Tim?" he asks, hoping to break the ice a little bit.

She looks over, a little thrown off by the question. "Um…"

"If it's like personal, you don't have to tell me."

Stephanie's a little leery at first, but Dick really doesn't seem so bad, despite what Tim thinks of him. It wouldn't hurt anything to talk to him for a few minutes while she waits.

"No, it's fine. I'm just surprised that you're interested is all."

"Really?" he cocks his head to the side with a mix of confusion and a twinge of hurt on his face, "Why's that?"

"I don't know. I just assumed you would have better things to think about I guess."

"What would give you that idea…not those Gotham tabloids I hope?" he laughs and something about his laugh makes Stephanie feel more comfortable. She finds herself laughing with him, but not a nervous laugh. It's actually genuine.

"Actually yeah, that's _exactly_ where I got that idea from."

"Oh my God, that's so embarrassing. You have no idea how often one of those stories comes back to haunt me."

"Like now for example?"

"Exactly."

"You know if I was you, I'd be flattered. I mean yeah, there's the gossip, but a lot of the articles at least try to paint you in a really endearing light." Maybe it's a fudge of the truth, but what could it hurt? The way Tim makes it sound, Dick is a little sensitive and padding his ego would probably only help her in the long run.

"You think?"

"Yeah," she shrugs, "Sure."

A broad smile comes to his lips before his eyes suddenly go wide. Stephanie hopes something isn't wrong, that she didn't say anything to cause this but that isn't the case. "I just realized that we've been talking this whole time and I never even offered you anything. Do you want anything?"

She surveys the display cases for a minute with pursed lips.

"If you're having a hard time, I could recommend the apple tart. It's a personal favorite," he winks and that's just it for Stephanie. She's never really been _that_ kind of girl, but damn it if Dick Grayson winks at you, it's got to count for something.

After a second she nods and agrees. "Alright, why not?"

Triumphantly, the male smiles and begins bagging up the pastry for Stephanie. He hands her the bag adorned with Barbara's logo, but sticks his hand out in opposition when she goes to pay.

"Oh come on, I couldn't make you pay for this."

Stephanie's brows lower, almost insulted and she lays a five down on the counter anyway. She knows that not what he meant, but she hates feeling pitied by people. It's not like he was giving it to her for free because _they_ were friends, but because she was _Tim's_ friend. That's not the same. "Thanks but you really don't have to do that."

He can sense that this isn't worth arguing about, so Dick just frowns and rings up her purchase. " _If you insist_ ," he says as he writes up her receipt. She takes it and is about to stuff it in her wallet without a second thought, but stops when Dick gestures towards it. "You're not even gonna check it and make sure it's right?"

She raises an eyebrow, wondering why she would have to do that, but looks down anyway. Written at the bottom is a phone number and when she looks up he's flashing a perfectly cute and seductive smile at her. She just laughs before folding it up and sliding it in her pocket, "Am I supposed to be flattered?"

"I was kind of hoping you would be. Was I wrong?"

"Maybe, maybe not, but the fact that you have to question it makes it kind of adorable."

* * *

Sick.

That's how Tim feels when he's walking back into the bakery after his lunch break. He can't believe he really did that. While it felt good in the moment, _because when does eating ever really suck_ , he feels like shit now. He just forced down a couple thousand calories at once and then made himself to throw up in a disgusting gas station bathroom, how sad is that? Who _does_ that? Not only is it gross, but it's not normal and just pathetic. Now he can't help but just feel a little ashamed of his lack of self-control.

He doesn't think it can get any worse as he drags his feet through the doors…at least until he sees Stephanie. She isn't the problem of course, it's the fact that she's leaning over the counter laughing with Dick and looking like she's having the time of her life. If he had anything left in his stomach, he'd be throwing that up too.

"Oh hey Tim!" Dick suddenly beams, forcing Tim to put a smile on his face.

"Hey Dick and…Stephanie. What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk to you actually. I didn't think you were actually going to take your break."

He awkwardly shrugs, "Yeah, bad timing I guess." What he really wants is to ask her why she would stick around and casually chat it up with Dick instead.

"Well, I can watch the register for a few more minutes if you still need to talk," Dick offers.

Steph thanks him while Tim just nods and leads her towards the back room. He can't imagine why Steph would show up to his job to talk to him, but between lunch and Dick and Steph, he isn't in that great of a mood to start.

He's closing the door a little when she says, "You know, he's really not that bad."

"Not that bad?" He laughs, "You're kidding right?"

Stephanie rolls her eyes and wonders how a boy like Tim can be so dramatic. "You make it sound like he's some sort of evil villain or something. He seems nice. He's sweet and pretty chill an-"

They haven't been talking for long but already Tim can feel his temper shortening. So the guy's perfect, he knows. He's heard it before. In frustration, he crosses his arms over his chest, "And what Stephanie?"

There's a cold stare on his face at first, but it changes to confusion as he sees a slight blush come to her cheeks. "And he gave me his number...I think I'm going to use it."

He doesn't know whether to be shocked or appalled so he just stares. It's clear though, from the new expression Steph is sporting, that this isn't up for discussion. " _Whatever_."

There's an uneasy air in the room for a few moments until Stephanie narrows her eyes, "What's your problem Tim?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You've been acting off lately and you claim everything is fine, but I doubt it. I also doubt that Dick and college are the only things bothering you. Maybe it's your parents or something you haven't told me about, but this is different."

"I told you before that I'm fine. I don-What did you come here for anyway? You came to see me for a reason right? What was it?"

For a moment Tim can't tell if Stephanie's more hurt or surprised by his coldness. If she claims he's been acting off lately, then maybe by now she's gotten used to it by now anyway right?

"I wanted to make sure that we were cool after our conversation because it seemed like I had upset you..." He's about to respond when she continues, "But _now_ , I'm not sure why I bothered."

She's already pushing past him towards the door when he lowers his face and sighs, "Stephanie..."

She stops reluctantly and hopes she won't regret the decision in a few seconds, "Something's going on Tim, I can tell. It's with you. I've seen you get like this before but never this bad. You're being distant. When I do see you, you seem, I don't know- _depressed_ ; and you're mood, you're like irritable one moment and forcing yourself to be happy the next. I'm worried. I want to help but now I'm starting to feel like maybe I should just give you some space."

She starts walking again and this time he puts an arm out to stop her. He would love to tell her the real reason he's acting off, even now he's not upset with her. He's mad at himself. Mad at himself for falling back into this vicious spiral. He's mad at himself for not getting into the program and getting himself into this mess or for being a shitty friend or just about everything but not at Stephanie. She's done nothing but care.

"Just wait..." He begs.

Stephanie rolls her eyes but stops again. "Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on with you?"

"I can't...I can't tell you." He wishes he could but it's just not possible. She'd judge him, see him differently.

The blonde lets out a defeated sigh and its obvious to Tim that he's hurting her, but if he told her, it would only hurt her worse, "Then I can't wait."

* * *

Tim's not sure how long it's been since Stephanie left without even saying goodbye to him. He couldn't tell you in minutes…

but he could tell you probably tell you in pastries.

He's sold more to himself than he has to anyone else in the last hour or two. He's just been sitting at the counter feeling so stupid for how he left things. Maybe he should've told Steph what was going on, what was _really_ going on. Maybe she could help...or maybe she'd freak out and make everything worse.

Yeah...she'd probably freak out.

She'd want to tell someone, to _help_ him. His friends would find out. Then his dad would find out and his parents would both be pissed. It would just make everything worse than it already is. He doesn't want her to be mad at him, or feel like he's hiding things...even though he is. As much as he'd like to tell her he just can't. It'll just end up hurting them all in the process.

So instead of trying to reconcile with her, he's just been ignoring the problem and focusing on tasting every tart, cookie, and cupcake available today…looks like he threw up earlier for nothing. He couldn't even hold out on another binge until tomorrow. How pathetic? And where the hell is supposed to throw this up at work? Not in the bathroom, someone will surely hear him. He's not sure what's more depressing: the fact that in he's binging again in less than an hour or that he's upset because he can't stick his finger down his throat after?

Or it could just be the guilt he's feeling from upsetting Stephanie and being a total jerk when all she wanted was to apologize.

What the fuck is going on with his life?

"Everything alright?" He hears from behind for the second time today, prompting him to glance over his shoulder. This time Dick is leaning against the doorway with a genuinely concerned look on his face. All Tim wants is to gag. Of all the people he has to deal with now, this guy. He played nice earlier but he's not really in the mood to play nice right now. Either way he sucks it up because he'll be resubmitting his application any day now and the last thing he needs is to upset Dick beforehand.

Tim shrugs, "I guess...I don't know. Why? Does something look wrong?"

"Well, you only look slightly more unapproachable than usual; but I did notice the way you looked when Stephanie left."

 _Stephanie_.

So she's not just "his friend" or "that blonde girl" anymore. Isn't that just adorable?

"Oh...yeah. We didn't exactly leave things on the best terms but we'll work it out soon I hope."

"Are you two close?"

"Yeah, she's like my best friend."

Dick's head tilts slightly to one side, "But never anything else, not at all?"

The older male has a hard time believing that, even as he sees Tim shaking his head. He's seen the way Stephanie looks at Tim, even if the idiot hasn't noticed himself. Maybe she's just never been bold enough to make the move, but if Tim ever did, something tells Dick she'd take it no matter how hard she tries to hide it. He just knows the look too well.

"She told me you exchanged numbers. I don't mind, if that's what you're getting it," Tim lies. He totally minds, but not because he wants her himself. He just doesn't want her with Dick. But as much as he hates Dick, he loves Steph and if this is really what she wants...besides, maybe it'll help Tim in the long run? Hopefully she can put in a good word for him or something.

"Oh, she did? I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Are you sure you don't?"

"Yeah I'm sure. I'd say we're like you and Babs but, you know, Steph and I don't ever hook up when she visits me on my breaks."

Dick's cheeks turn a light shade of red and he nervously rubs the back of his neck with his hand. Then suddenly something hits him, "Did you just say _Babs_?" He grins.

Tim's eyebrows shoot up, "Y-yeah...she told me that I didn't always have to call her Barbara so I just went with that."

A smirk comes to Dick's lips, "Yeah, she doesn't really like being called Barbara, but you know what she does like?"

Tim shrugs.

The older male gives a slight laugh and winks, "She likes it when you pull her hair."

* * *

By the end of his shift, Tim feels like shit. His day's been shit. He's trying to figure out how to reconcile with Stephanie without actually being honest with her. His stomach hurts from eating and then throwing up and eating all over again. He regrets it, but when doesn't he? It's not like he can really help himself.

He's lying with his chin on the counter watching Damian sweep one last time until he can muster up the energy to drag his feet to his car and leave. Before he can manage that, Barbara's standing beside him, pulling her apron over her head and smiling, "So did you think of anything good?"

He glances up with a raised brow, "Huh?"

"A nickname, remember?"

And oh shit, he forgot all about that...or the fact that he's supposed to stay and hang out with her tonight to taste something. Damn it he's not in the mood but he doesn't feel like rescheduling either.

"O-oh, I honestly couldn't think of anything worth repeating so I think I'll go with Babs, unless you've changed your mind about Barbie?"

"Of course not."

"But it's catchy _and_ iconic."

She sits on the edge of the counter and shrugs, "Maybe I'll make an exception just for you then?"

"Oh really, I feel special."

She brushes it off with a short laugh and then asks, "You ready to try this?" Tim nods in reply, "Alright, we'll meet me in our usual booth and I'll bring it over."

* * *

As usual, everything Barbara's had him try tastes amazing. He's not really sure why they even bother with tasting, unless of course, this is just her way of spending time with him. If so, she doesn't really have to try this hard, not with Tim at least. Regardless, it's been a needed distraction from his more than awful day. There hasn't been enough time for any real sense of regret or disappointment to fully set in yet, mostly his stomach hurt and he's experiencing a slight crash from all the sugar he's consumed in the past few hours. It probably wouldn't be so bad if he'd gotten to throw up earlier...

He isn't thinking about that now though. Right now he's wondering what moves he should make with Barbara. If he's going to do this, tonight is probably his best bet. He needs to find out whether or not Dick was serious now, before he officially turns in this application and gets utterly embarrassed.

"So they're good right?" She asks, leaning across the table on her elbows.

He rolls his eyes, "Like you didn't already know that."

"Well I did...but I still like to get your opinion on it," she says while grabbing the plate in front of him. He gets up when she does almost automatically and follows her as she starts towards the kitchen.

"I'm flattered. I didn't think my opinion meant that much to you. I thought it was just a job requirement." He leans his back against the counter while she drops the plate with a few other dishes in the sink.

"Why would you think something like that? Obviously it does, or I wouldn't keep asking you to try it with me."

"So this all a ploy to get me to spend time with you?"

She peaks over her shoulder, biting at her lip and shrugs, "Maybe."

"Well it's working," he says, moving a little closer to her and slowly placing a hand on her arm. He's not even sure where the hell this is coming from at this point. He's definitely into it, he's into her. He's just wondering if maybe this is going too far or if it's even a good idea anymore. And what if she really does like him? Is he doing this to prove a point or because he likes her too? Can they even be together? What about the age difference or the fact that she's his boss? Or that she was intimate with Dick too? There are just so many reasons Tim could write this off as wrong, but he almost doesn't want to.

He's attempting to keep his calm as all these second thoughts run through his head. He can't start backing out now. He's in too deep and he has to know.

Barbara looks down at Tim's hand and then back up at him. He just offers her a smile as if he's some sort of expert on spontaneous hook ups. For the most part, he's just winging it.

"Is it now? I was having trouble figuring it out. You don't exactly seem _interested_ when you're here."

He moves so that he's behind her, an arm on either side as she's pressed between his body and the sink. Before he does anything, he takes a moment to inhale deeply and try and compose himself.

This is _Barbara_.

The same girl that he saw with Dick his first week. The same girl that signs his pay checks. This could potentially be a disaster. He's glad she can't feel his heart threatening to beat out of his chest or she'd probably leave.

He leans his face into her neck and plants to slow kisses before whispering in her ear, "Does that seem disinterested?"

"I don't know," she shrugs, taking her hand and pulling Tim's lips lower on her neck, "But maybe if you do it again, I'll be able to figure it out..."

* * *

So Barbara's definitely reciprocating...

Tim knows that much. If he was looking for an answer, this is probably as clear as it's gonna get.

They're kissing, pretty heavily now. Tim can't say he ever felt this much passion behind any other kisses he's experienced. He's got her pushed up against the sink with one hand in her hair and the other making it slowly under the hem of her shirt and down her hip.

Honestly, up until the moment it's actually happening, Tim can't believe it. What she sees in him, he has no idea. Babs could have anyone she wants, yet here she was wasting her time with him when she could be literally anyone else.

Hell, who knows the last time she was with Dick?

Tim just pushes that thought out of his mind. It's easy when she's guiding his hand up her shirt and over her bra. It's lace, at least he thinks. He doesn't really care. He's got his hand on her _bra_ ; and the way she's biting at his lip, he's pretty sure he has the green light to put his hands anywhere he can imagine if he wants to.

He's not sure what to do, or just how far he's supposed to take it now, but he feels like he should probably do something. So he pulls her up onto the edge of the sink. Barbara responds by taking the edges of her shirt and pulling the entire thing above her head. His eyebrows shoot up and she just smirks.

Well that escalated quickly.

Suddenly every other thought about work or Steph or anything unrelated to sex is disappearing from his mind and he's thinking like the teenage boy he is. While he's ravaging her collar, she's sliding her bra straps down her shoulders and asking him for more. He even takes a moment to tug and the back of her hair like Dick said, and he'll be damned if she doesn't let out the most enticing moan he's ever heard in his entire life. This is definitely the most exciting hook up he's ever had.

Tim's got one hair sliding one hand under the waist of Barbara's jeans and the other gripping her hair as they kiss when she takes a hand to the hem of his hoodie. His heart literally stops when she whispers, "Take it off…"

Take it off… _take it off?_ There's no way in hell, not when he's been sitting here all day stuffing thousands of calories down his throat. Not to mention, that he's been rubberband-ing his school uniform together all week. He's staring at Barbara, who looks every bit as flawless topless as he imagined and he's supposed to take off his hoodie for what? He's not really even sure how bad it looks under there since he's been avoiding mirrors all week to save himself the embarrassment. Now he's seconds away from all the embarrassment he's been trying to avoid, raining down on him.

When Tim hesitates, Barbara tilts her head, "Is something wrong?"

Not yet, but it will be. Someone who looks like Barbara isn't going to want a thing to do with someone like Tim after this. It's a wonder why she's even interested now, not after being with guys like Dick Grayson especially. Maybe Tim's never seen him shirtless personally, but Dick's shirts don't always leave much to the imagination. The guy is definitely fit, whereas Tim's body goes through well… _phases_ , and he's pretty sure this is not one of them.

"No, everything is fine," he answers, hoping his voice sounds solid and confident.

"Well come on then," she urges, "Keep going…you do _want_ to keep going right?" She's sliding a hand under Tim's shirt and up his back. He feels himself stiffening up when he should be enjoying himself.

"Yeah of course," he says, but she finds it weird that he's pulling her hand away as he does so.

Maybe this was a mistake? He has no idea what he was even thinking or why he let things go this far? To prove that Dick isn't messing with him? For all he knows Dick still is, hell this could be a part of it. Even if that's not the case, he's got way too much going on right now to be doing something like this. He should be focusing on his application to the program or dealing with Steph or his mom or how he's been eating or anything other than hooking up and getting off.

"You don't _seem_ okay? I ugh…You have done this before, _haven't you?_ I'm not like…because if I'm making you uncomfortable and you're not _ready_ I'm completely sorry. I just…I thought-"

He puts his hands up to stop her rambling before she starts to get too down on herself, "You're fine, trust me. It's not you it-"

"Oh God Tim, please don't say it's not you, it's me," Barbara begs, covering her face with her hands in embarrassment. "If you didn't want to do this, you could have just said that."

He sighs and hands her the shirt she previously tossed aside. This hook up is over, that much is obvious at this point. "It's nothing like that. I want to, believe me I do. I just can't right now."

"You can't?" she asks, sounding genuinely confused. He puts a hand on her knee while he thinks of a response, and she notices that he flinches when she sets a hand on his waist. It's odd, but she brushes it off as nothing after a few seconds.

Tim takes a deep breath and bites his lip looking down at her hand and then back up at her. She looks upset, like what he just told he just crushed her self-esteem by calling her ugly or something. He decides the best way to go about this, and spare her and himself, is to lie. He pushes her hand away and takes a deep breath, "I ugh…you're right. I'm just not ready yet. I've never done _this_ before…a-and I just…I feel like you're better than some random hookup with an inexperienced guy in the back of a bakery. I'm sorry."

That gets her to crack half a smile, "It's fine Tim really, I understand completely. And you're right, this does feel a little wrong, kind of rushed, but it's not because _I'm_ better than this. It's that you are; and I respect the fact that you were able to say it, or that you even thought about me before things went too far. You're a nice kid Tim, I think that's what I like about you most…but maybe that's also the problem?"

"I'm too nice?"

"No," she slides down from where she's sitting on the counter and takes Tim's hand, "That you're a _kid_. Of course you're too nice Tim. You're nice and you're quiet and you're even a little reserved, at all the wrong times though; but you don't know any better." She says all this as she guides him towards the parking lot. He follows blindly, hanging onto her every word.

"Are you saying I'm naive or…"

She stops and faces him, taking one of his sleeves in each hand, "No. I'm just saying you're young, but you're smart too, you'll learn," she assures, leaning up and gives him a soft kiss on the cheek, "and when you do, well, you know where to find me."

* * *

"I think you should've just did it," Bart says over the phone to Tim as he lies in his bed. He needed something to distract from his day, his night, from drowning his problems in food again; and he didn't feel right calling Stephanie just yet, so he called Bart instead. "You should've just fucked her. It's not like it was your first time or anything."

"…I kind of told her it was," Tim admits, "Or at least I told her it would've been, if we had actually gone through with it."

Bart just laughs on the other end, " _That_ was your excuse? You told her you were a virgin? That's weak dude and it makes you sound like a fag."

"Don't say that. It's politically incorrect. You can't _sound like a fag_."

"Tim shut up. What does that-who cares? You had a chance to hook up with your boss, who I've seen and is a perfect ten. It's like one of the top ten hottest fantasies ever next to like screwing your teacher and screwing a MILF. You didn't do it why exactly?"

Tim takes a deep breath and lets out a slow sigh. "It just didn't feel right," he lies because he can't divulge the real reason he wouldn't do it. If Bart thought he sounded stupid before, the real reason would sound even worse.

"I just want you to know that that is hands down the lamest excuse I've ever heard and I'm ashamed to call you my friend," he deadpans, "Most people will never get that opportunity in life and you will never get an opportunity like that ever again. Now it looks like you'll just have to settle for someone else or you'll settle for Stephanie maybe?"

Tim laughs at that statement, even finding the suggestion to be absurd, not that he hasn't heard it before. Even Dick seemed to think there was something going on, but there's not. They're just close, Bart should know better. "Don't even joke like that, we're not like that. Besides, she came by my job today and Dick gave her his number. She even told me she was going to use it."

" _Really?_ " Bart asks, sounding genuinely astounded.

"You sound surprised."

"Well it's just, she went to _your_ job to see _you_. I don't think it was to get…you know what, never mind. That's cool. She's been like fan-girling over the guy since like Jr high school. I hope it works out."

"Yeah well at least one of us does," Tim says childishly. He told her he didn't care, but he just isn't that fond of the idea or of Dick in general.

Bart sighs on the other end, "Don't dude."

"Don't what?"

"I'm saying this as your friend and as Steph's too…I know how you feel about the guy, but we both know how Steph feels about him too. She's your best friend; don't ruin this for her because you've got a problem with it. You chose Barbara, let her have Dick."

"I wasn-wait, I _chose_ Barbara? What are you talking about? I don't exactly remember having options and she chose me."

"Tim I swear to God, to be so smart, you are seriously so dense sometimes."

"I have no idea what you're getting at or where this is even coming from."

"Of course you don't. It's just…look, it's not really my place to tell you."

"Well who's is it then?" he asks, wondering how the hell the conversation took this turn, what this turn even really is. Or why lately his conversations with his friends are going the way they are. Maybe he should've called Conner. He would've just let him vent without all the extra serious input.

"I ugh-it-Look dude I have to go. I'll talk to you tomorrow okay?"

Bart's off the phone before Tim can even say goodbye. What the hell was that even about? He was not expecting Bart to get all random and weird on him, the same way he wasn't expecting Stephanie to act the way she did the other night. Maybe he's not used to his friends disagreeing with him so much, or situations not going his way, but Tim doesn't like feeling like he isn't in control of things, especially things like this. He should have better control over his relationships with his friends, at least he thinks. He usually does.

It's like even when he thinks things can't get worse, they do. His mom is hovering over him now that she's found out. He's got to resubmit his application and so far, he hasn't done much in the way of ensuring his spot with Dick. He actually has to be _civil_ with Dick. He's got to make up with Steph over some useless argument; plus Bart is just being cryptic and strange. God only knows how work is going to be after he pretty much rejected Barbara and lied to her. It just all sucks and it only adds fuel to the biggest problem of all.

He still hasn't forgotten the fact that he went overboard twice today. He even went out of his way to throw up and it still meant nothing. What is wrong with him? This whole eating thing is supposed to be the one this he has complete control of and it's not. If nothing else, it's slowly making everything worse, worse than it's ever been before. It definitely did with Barbara today. He's watching it ruin everything but yet he can't stop. It's taking everything he has now not to go downstairs and rummage through the kitchen after this conversation with Bart.

He's not sure what to do exactly, or what moves to take, but he knows that starting tomorrow he needs to find at least a little bit of control and focus. If he doesn't, well he can only imagine how bad things are going to get for him around here.

* * *

"So was it good?" Dick laughs as he reenters his living room with a drink for him and Barbara, "Who was better?"

The redhead, not amused in the least, snatches the glass and rolls her eyes. "Oh my God Dick, don't be so childish."

"What?" he laughs, "It was just a question."

She cracks a slight smile and takes a slow sip, "I can't believe you even feel comfortable asking me something like this. We are way too close."

He takes a seat on the couch beside her, lounging back comfortably as she stays seated stiffly on the edge. He puts one hand on her back and tries to make her as comfortable as possible because something is clearly bugging her. She's never this stiff with him. "Did something happen?" he asks, a little more serious.

"No actually, but that's what's getting to me. _Nothing_ happened."

"So you didn't hook up? What the hell were you doing for all this time then?"

"Well we _started_ to," she says, "But then it just didn't really go anywhere. I thought you said he was okay with this?"

"I told him you were and he seemed like he was. I mean, he's interested. That much was obvious from day one."

"Yeah, well he wasn't. I feel like I just tried to molest a child for you. Thank you for that."

"Hey it wasn't only for my benefit," says Dick as he downs his drinks and raises an eyebrow. He's a little confused as to what just happened. He thought the entire thing was a go. Babs expressed interest in Tim, Tim was obviously enticed by her. It should've been easy. He thought he was helping all of them, though he was mostly trying to do something for himself. "So what exactly happened? Where did everything go wrong?"

She shrugs non chalant, "I don't know. We were hooking up and then I went to take off his shirt and he like panicked. He told me he wasn't ready because he'd never done anything like this before-"

" _Doesn't surprise me_."

"Shut up Dick, it's not funny. I mean, I told him that it was okay and that when he was ready, we could try again. But it was weird. I keep getting this feeling like he lied to me, because I didn't get the vibe that he was new to this, even after he said it. He was nervous, but he had experience."

"Well if you don't think it was that, what kind of vibe did you get then?"

"Like he didn't want me to touch him-that the idea of being naked made him uncomfortable. He's been wearing like hoodies and jackets a lot it was just, it was like he was trying to hide something under there."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well a lot happened...tell me wat u thought. b nice :)


	7. 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I know I know...it's been yeeeaaarrrsss... I am so sorry.
> 
> I'm not going to lie, for a time there, I didn't think I was ever going to update this story again. I don't know, I had just sort of lost the spark for a moment...but after countless reviews and messages, I realized how f***ed up that would be. I mean, I came back once or twice and still didn't feel it again, but after seriously thinking about it and sitting down to write, I remembered the story I wanted to tell in the first place (dramatic, with twists and turns and issues and all that) and how much I wanted people to enjoy it just as much as I did...so I sat down and boom! it all came right back to me.
> 
> a lot of you guys reviewed and contacted me (here or on ff.net) and thank you all. I didn't want to let any of you down :)
> 
> anyways, thanks to all of you and I promise not to let this story die as long as you guys want to read it. I've got some interesting things planned if you'll stick around...
> 
> I do not own young justice or anything else I might mention in this story...
> 
> **I hope you guys still remember what happened before and take special notice of the shifting personalities we've got this chapter

* * *

 

7

"Maybe he's got some weird scar under there? Or a strange deformity? Or maybe a tattoo he's ashamed of?" Dick rattles off from his desk. They've been joking about the incident with Tim for a few days now, and this is about as far as they've gotten.

Barbara rolls her eyes, "Dick you sound ridiculous. It doesn't even matter now so there's no point in trying to figure it out anymore. Can we just drop it, _please_?"

The male leans back in his chair and shrugs. He's got a smug look on his face, the kind that screams _I'm going to say something you don't want to hear to Barbara_ , "I mean you said yourself that you thought something was off. You can't say you're not curious."

He definitely is. If nothing else, he set Tim up and the kid totally bailed. He kind of made Dick look like an ass.

The redhead gnaws her bottom lip for a moment but her expression quickly shifts, "Sure I am, but it's none of my business. If he wants to tell me what's really going on he will, if not...well that's his decision."

"Or I could just ask him?" The male offers.

"So he can know that I told you?"

"As if he didn't already know that…He's not stupid Barbara. He's _something_ , but definitely not that."

"I don't know...I don't want him to think I violated his trust or anything."

"Hate to rain on your parade, but you kind of already did."

The redhead shoots her friend a fowl look before continuing, "I know, and I feel bad about it. I just, I..."

"You what?" inquires Dick as he leans forward on his desk with an eyebrow raised.

"There's something different about him. I like him."

"I knew that."

"I know just-just don't say or do anything stupid please Dick. I'd prefer not to hurt him."

**Xxx**

He isn't going to say it's awkward, but it's definitely not comfortable seeing Barbara at work all week. They talk, making idle chit chat, but it's not the same. It's probably going to be strange between them until they have a _real talk_ but Tim's not sure when they'll be having that. It's almost been a week and they still haven't really addressed it. Besides, what the hell is he supposed to tell her anyway? Obviously not the truth.

He's sitting at counter, like most Friday afternoons, when Dick strolls in from the back. He isn't excited about it, but maybe a distraction would be nice - something to keep him from thinking about the other night with Barbara, because that seems to be all he can think about whenever he's at work surrounded by her and her name on literally everything.

"Hey," the older male smirks and Tim sits up, remembering to keep things "friendly". He's got his future to think about.

"Hey."

Dick glances around, checking to make sure they're alone before he continues, "So, that night, with Barbara?"

Immediately Tim can feel his face getting hot. He should've known better honestly. Dick and Babs are friends. Why wouldn't she tell him? And of course Dick would come to him to talk about it eventually. He's Dick. Tim honestly should've known better than to think he had gotten off Scott free.

"What about it?"

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Well obviously! I know that. If you didn't want to, you could've just said that. I would've told her."

Tim can hardly believe this right now. This has got to be flat out, one of the most awkward, inappropriate conversations you can have with your boss. Then again, this wouldn't be the first time...but now said boss is on the committee for the Master's Program. What the hell was Tim even thinking lately? Maybe his parents were right for thinking he was stupid? This was definitely one of the stupidest decisions he'd ever made come back to bite him in the ass. Maybe he should've just sucked it up and slept with her...or sucked it in and slept with her he guesses?

Tim sighs, "It wasn't that I didn't...it just wasn't right was all. It wasn't anything against Babs. I told her that and I hope she doesn't think it."

Dick laughs, enjoying the innocence Tim is feigning. "I don't think she does, but I'll make sure to tell her. It's too bad it didn't work though...I think she actually liked you."

Tim scoffs, leaning his head in his arm and rolling his eyes, "I shouldn't have let it go there. It's not like I really have the time for relationships right now, or anything for that matter."

"Yeah," Dick agrees causing Tim to raise an eyebrow. How the hell would he know? "Stephanie told me she hasn't really been seeing or hearing from you much lately."

That gets Tim's antennae's going. " _Stephanie?_ Stephanie told you this?"

"Yeah, she did. Was she not supposed to?"

Tim waves it off, trying not to seem as upset about as he actually is, at least not in front of Dick. They've barely talked all week but she's been talking to him? "I just wasn't aware that you two were talking."

"We exchanged numbers Tim."

He remembers fine. He just didn't think they'd actually use them...or hang out...or talk about him. Why the hell are they talking about him?

"I forgot. I've just been busy, you know with work and school and thinking about this Master's thing."

"I completely understand. I think she was just worried. She definitely looked it when she came over yesterday."

Came over yesterday? What the hell? Tim definitely notices the smugness coming from the older male when he says it. He can't help but wonder if maybe Dick is purposely trying to get a reaction from him, or if he's just making idle chit chat.

"She doesn't have anything to be worried about."

Dick nods, "I'll make sure to tell her that tonight. We're seeing a movie."

Tim bites his bottom lip to keep from saying something stupid and watches Dick leave almost too casually for his liking. Talking? Movies? It's only been a few days, not even a week. He can't be that out of the loop. How did he not hear about any of this from her...or if nothing else, from Bart or Conner?

**Xxx**

When he gets off, the first thing he does is stop at Bart's. He wants to make sure he wasn't the last to know about Steph's "date" with Dick. He pulls up to the apartment complex Bart lives at with his cousin and knocks at the door. It takes a minute but finally it creaks open revealing Wally in his pajamas. He doesn't seem surprised to see him, so much as he does indifferent about it.

"Hey, looking for Bart I assume?"

Tim nods.

"Uh-huh. Twerp's in his room. He didn't say anything about you stopping by though."

He notes the mild curiosity on Wally's face and replies, "It was an _impromptu_ visit."

The redhead narrows his eyes suspiciously before shrugging. Over the years, he's learned better than to ask about what goes on with Bart and his friends, "Well he's in his room. Knock yourself out."

Tim nods again and walks past the older male, down the hall, and into Bart's room. He opens the door and sees Bart sitting on the edge of his bed, his leg shaking as he pushes violently against the buttons of his videogame controller.

"Geez Wally, I said I'd get to the dishes in a second. Just let me finish this level," he complains before glancing over. He pauses and then raises an eyebrow before turning back to the game. "Tim? Nice to see you and all but ugh...kinda busy. What are you doing here?"

"Just came to ask you something."

"Oh yeah? What's up? You know you could've just called."

"Your place was on my way home for work." Yeah he could've called, but he'd rather ask in person, see his friend's reaction for himself.

Bart leans to his right, his controller going with him, "Well, what's going on? Let's see if I can- _shit! No not, ugh_ -if I can help you."

"Did you know about Dick and Stephanie?"

"… _yeah_ ," he says after a quick pause. He sounds slightly thrown off. That definitely wasn't the question he was expecting, "we both do."

"I mean did you know they're going out tonight?"

Bart hesitates, focusing more on his game than on Tim. He's obviously doing it on purpose, "Well yeah, I did."

"Did you know she went over there the other night?"

"Yeah, I did," Bart says sternly, seeming fed up with the third degree. "Why?"

"You didn't think to tell me? That maybe that might be something I want to know?"

Bart stares at the screen, presses a few more buttons before dropping his controller and throwing his hands up in obvious defeat, " _Sonofa-_ " he starts before glaring at Tim. "Yeah, it crossed my mind but-"

Tim crosses his arms over his chest "But what?"

"But she asked us, us being me and Conner, not to tell you...for this very reason I'm sure." Tim raises his eyebrow, unsure of what 'reason' Bart is referring to. "Because she knew you'd be upset about it, like you are right now."

"Yeah I'm upset. Everybody knew but me! I had to find out at work from Dick. Why wouldn't she tell me?"

"I don't know Tim, maybe because you've barely talked to each other all week or because you don't like him and she knows it?"

"Someone still could've told me so I wouldn't be blindsided."

"Does it matter? She likes him, he likes her. Steph can tell or not tell whoever she wants. Can't we just be happy for her?"

"I'd be happier if it was anyone but him."

"Of course you would, but not everything is about you Tim."

"Yeah, but whose going to be stuck picking up the pieces when this crashes and burns? It'll be sophomore year all over again."

Bart bites his bottom lip, understanding Tim's point. They don't bring up sophomore year often, but when they do, it tends to silence everyone for a moment and really put things in perspective. "Steph's a big girl dude. She can handle herself."

"Can she?"

"Well unless you plan on chaperoning her for the rest of her life, I guess we'll have to sit back and find out."

**Xxx**

He's not sure what he was expecting when he leaves Bart's, but that definitely wasn't it. He drives home intending to go home and head straight to his room and be by himself but he isn't so lucky. The minute he walks in his bedroom door, he wishes he could just turn back around.

There, standing next to his desk with several papers in his hand, is his father and he doesn't look pleased.

"Um, hey?" It comes out like a question. If Tim had intended for a question, it would've been something more like _'what the hell are you doing in here?'_

"Timothy, what is this?" His father's voice is way too even toned and calm. Tim isn't sure what he did, but he's sure he's fucked up.

"I ugh, I don't know."

"Of course you don't." Jack turns the papers around and holds them up so that his son can see them. It's his second application to the Master's program. "Do you know what it is now?"

"Yeah," Tim nods, "It's my application."

"Yes, yes it is. Tell me something Timothy, why is this application still sitting on your desk half filled out when the deadline for reapplication is in a matter of days _hmm_?"

"I hadn't gotten around to finishing it yet," he answers, which is only a stretch of the truth.

Jack laughs, one that is clearly meant to be condescending, before setting the papers down and walking towards his son. Tim stiffens under his clothes but doesn't show it, not even when his father is digging his fingers into his shoulder and practically throwing him into his desk chair.

"I suggest you finish that application tonight and have it stamped and in the mailbox by tomorrow morning or so help you God, you'll regret not sending it more than not getting in."

Tim nods and his father's stares at him in disgust before slamming his bedroom door on the way out. As if his day wasn't already bad enough? He'd skip it and wait until later but he knows better than to cross his father. If he says he wants the stupid application mailed by tomorrow, that's what Tim is going to do, but not without a trip to his top drawer. He just needs a little sugar rush to ensure he stays up and gets it done tonight.

**Xxx**

…Of course a little turns into a few, which turns into an entire bag of powdered donuts and half a gallon of milk, but who's counting? He throws most of it up afterwards anyway. At least he gets the application done and it's nothing if not excellent. Tim knows better than to turn in anything subpar.

He wakes up draped over his desk and forces himself to get up and get dressed for work. He sticks the envelope with his application in his bag and shuffles down the stairs. He has no intention of stopping in the kitchen to see either of his parents, but of course nobody cares about what he wants.

He hears his mother's voice just as he hits the bottom step. "Timothy! Is that you?"

He sighs and curses himself internally, "Yeah?"

"Come in here please?" She calls and he knows the 'please' still doesn't make it a request. Reluctantly he trudges into the kitchen and sees his parents sitting in front of a breakfast he knows neither of them actually prepared.

Janet motions to the chair in front of them and tells him to sit down. Tim complies, but when she starts making him a plate he makes a face. He knows she's doing it as a facade for his father until she figures out what to do about his "problem"; but she really doesn't have to. If he skipped breakfast today, his father probably wouldn't notice or give a shit if he did. He's too busy being nose deep in this morning's newspaper anyway.

Janet slides a plate towards him and practically glares at him until he takes his first bite. He does it begrudgingly but doesn't complain. After another bite or two he looks up and around the kitchen nervously. As much as he'd love to have breakfast with his parents, they didn't call him in here for no reason.

"So..." He says looking between them, "I have to get to work soon so do you guys need something or..."

"Did you finish the application?" Jack asks dryly, barely even looking up from his paper.

"Yeah, I was going to drop it off at the post office on my way to work."

"Good."

Tim waits for about a minute and when nobody says anything else he starts to push his chair away from the table. He grabs his bag but just before he's up, his mother's shrill voice catches his attention.

She's pointing at a page in the paper, "Wait a second...Timothy isn't this your friend? Bethany?"

Tim rolls his eyes. He knows the woman knows her name. "Stephanie?"

"Yes, her…and here she is right on the first page of the gossip section sitting in Dick Grayson's car. _Figures_. We keep telling you that girl is trouble but you are just so hard headed. You should've rid yourself of her after that bastard child she conceived. At least she had the common sense to give it up. Now she's after your boss, for the money I bet," rants Janet.

Tim bears through it for a few moments but he can't sit here and listen to this, "Mom-"

"Mother."

"Stop it. You're not going to sit here and talk about her like that."

Janet widens her eyes and opens her mouth as if she's about to have an outburst, but Jack puts his hand up, immediately silencing her. He sets the paper down and Tim can finally see the picture. The headline reads something like " _Grayson's Mystery Girl_ " and right there is a blown up picture of Dick and Stephanie. He's got one hand on the wheel and the other is holding hers in the middle. Steph's leaning into his shoulder as they drive away from a crowd of photographers. She looks like she's having the time of her life and it makes Tim sick.

He's snapped back into reality when his father gets up from the table, the last thing he says being, "This better not become a problem."

**Xxx**

Tim tries not to, he really does, but there's a McDonald's right by the post office, and he could use something to ease his mind before work. He pigs out on a series of Egg McMuffins and hash browns as he drives until his stomach feels grossly full and he never wants to see another McMuffin ever again.

By the time he pulls into the parking lot, he realizes his shift starts in about three minutes and that's not nearly enough time to throw up like he wants to, like he _needs_ to. He would've had enough time if he hadn't gotten sidetracked by his parents...then again he wouldn't be in this predicament at all if they hadn't shown him that stupid newspaper.

He takes a deep breath and drags his feet into the bakery. Damian's sweeping by the counter when he walks in and the kid doesn't say anything, not that Tim expects him too. He's actually pretty grateful. For five minutes he just sits at the counter leaning against his hand, staring out the front windows bored, stressed, way too full and bothered to think of anything else other than Stephanie and Dick.

Right after he sweeps his dirt into his dustpan and dumps it, Damian raises an eyebrow at Tim and then gives a mildly disgusted scowl, "You look sick."

"I feel sick," Tim states dryly, but it's not for the reason Damian thinks.

"Then why are you here?"

The older male doesn't answer at first before realizing that Damian thinks he's like _sneeze-cough_ sick. In reality he's just sick from eating way too much way too fast, but physically he'll be fine…well aside from all the calories, and fats, and things like additives and sodium, but whatever.

"It's my job."

"You could have called in, if you were sick."

"I'm not si-" he starts before narrowing his eyes at the youngest Wayne, "Wait, why do you care?"

"I don't care," he scoffs, "Not about you at least. You being here spreads germs, which affect perfectly healthy people like me. I am simply thinking about myself."

Tim should've known honestly. "Well you don't have to worry then. I'm not contagious."

Damian should consider himself lucky too. Tim's pretty sure the kid is way too headstrong to ever develop the relationship with food that he has.

"But still sick. Suit yourself Drake, it's your funeral."

He walks off non-chalant as if he could honestly care less, which makes Tim wonder why he bothered at all, but whatever. In an hour or two once all this shit is digested he'll be fine. Not happy with himself, but fine.

**Xxx**

About forty-five minutes go by and maybe Tim's not grossly full anymore, but his stomach is still turning with disgust. He'd like to blame it on Dick and Stephanie, but he knows he's disgusted with himself for binging on God knows how many calories and not throwing it up after.

_What the hell is wrong with him?_

Does he want to balloon up his senior year in high school and give everyone a reason to watch his eating habits more closely? His mother already knows and she's doing her best to ruin everything by using her authority to force him to eat, as if him _not eating_ enough was the issue. She just likes to exert some semblance of control in all aspects of his life.

Tim's stomach turns uneasily, so he takes a second to grab a cup of water and chug it down, hoping it 'll help settle him. He pours himself some more to take back to the counter, but only drinks about half. All it manages to do is make his stomach feel heavier.

"You alright?" He hears a few moments later and internally he groans. The sound of his voice just makes Tim's stomach turn cartwheels.

He nods without looking over at Dick, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine. Damian says you've looked like this since you came in and I agree, you do look a little sick."

Well in his own defense, he was managing significantly better until Dick came in. Now all the thoughts of him and Stephanie being together last night are rushing to his head. How could they? How could she? _Him of all people?_ She had to like him? Well yeah, maybe Steph had an affinity for douchebags, but Dick Grayson? He figured after the baby fiasco sophomore year, she'd be a little more leery and selective.

The more Dick talks, feigning like he cares, the more sick Tim starts to feel; and all that water he drank isn't helping. He's not even sure what Dick is saying anymore when he bolts from his chair to the bathroom and throws up. It's mostly an abundance of water, but there's enough of his binge still left over in there to fool the average bystander.

When he's done heaving up water, Dick is already standing in the bathroom doorway with a sour expression on his face. "Maybe you should go home and lie down? We'll be fine here. I can handle the register."

Tim nods. He's not in any mood to argue and anything that will keep him out of Dick's presence until his date with Stephanie stops bothering him is more than welcome.

"Are you okay to drive?" He asks as Tim rinses his mouth out.

He answers with a quick, "Yeah," because physically, he's still fine.

**Xxx**

Tim's lying on his side facing the wall and playing games on his phone, when he hears his door open. He assumes it's his mother at first, so he doesn't move or say anything in hopes that she'll think he's asleep and go away. When the person speaks though, he realizes it's not her at all.

"H-hey," Stephanie says. The last time they spoke, they argued so he's not surprised that she would come off a little tense.

He turns over and sits up, "Hey, ugh, what are you doing here?"

"I heard you were sick. I brought soup." She holds up a container and he assumes it's a piece offering of sorts.

"I'm fine," he states at first. It's more of a reaction than anything else. It's been his first response almost all morning, "How'd you hear I was sick?"

He has an idea but he just wants to hear her say it.

"Dick told me."

With that Tim rolls his eyes and falls back onto his elbows. He probably couldn't resist opening his big mouth, "Of course he did."

Seeing his reaction, Steph places the container she brought on his nightstand and sits on the edge of his bed. "Tim I-" she starts but he cuts her off bitterly.

"You don't have to explain yourself to me."

She doesn't buy it for a second. "Really? I thought that would be what you wanted? Bart told me about you showing up at his place yesterday."

Of course he did, _fucking traitor._

"Right. Since when do you and Bart talk so much anyway?" He says it under his breath but he knows she still hears him.

Steph looks taken back by the question, maybe even a little insulted by it honestly. "Bart and I are friends, just like you and him are friends. I can't bel-this isn't even about Bart is it? It's about Dick."

Tim doesn't reply, which is more than enough of an answer for Stephanie.

"What is your problem with him? He hasn't even done anything to you. You hate him for no reason."

In a matter of seconds his eyes widen and then form into a low scowl, "You go on one date and now what? You're like his biggest fan?"

"No. He's a nice guy. You're just being irrational. He doesn't hate you. I know Jason 'warned you and all' but Dick isn't out to get you or whatever you think. He actually likes you."

"He's got a weird way of showing it."

"Maybe you would notice if you weren't too busy being such a jerk?"

The implication is insulting enough to upset him. "Are you kidding me? I've been nothing but civil with him."

" _Oh please Tim_. I know you better than anybody. You can be condescending and stand offish at the drop of a hat."

"What? Where is this even coming from? I don't know wha-I think Dick is obviously clouding your judgment and ability to think clearly."

"Well I think you're threatened by him, jealous even."

The insinuation alone makes Tim laugh, "Oh wow, you're kidding right? Threatened by him? _Jealous?_ Why the hell would I be either of those?"

"I don't know Tim...maybe because he's everything your parents want you to be?"

Tim narrows his eyes and shuts his mouth for a moment. He's definitely offended. Stephanie knew he would be after making her point, so she lets out a soft sigh and tries to ease the sting, "It's not like you're going to lose me to him."

"Believe me," he scoffs, "I know that. You'll come crawling back to me when he leaves you high and dry, just like the last one. Hopefully he won't leave you with a baby too."

Tim isn't sure how to react after Stephanie slaps him. It takes him a second to even register the hit before he brings his hand to his throbbing cheek.

"What was that for?"

"Are you kidding me? Did you hear yourself just now?"

"Yeah, did _you_ hear me just now? Nothing I said was a lie. I told you not to mess with that Dean guy and you didn't listen. Did you not get knocked up sophomore year only to come crying to me after that loser abandoned you? Wasn't it me who picked you up every morning for school and took you to all of your appointments and to Lamaze and whatever else you needed? I spent every day with you making sure you were okay and then countless months helping you deal after you gave her up, not anybody else."

After a moment of looking completely dumbfounded, Stephanie stands up. Her hands are shaking and Tim isn't sure if she's angry or upset or both. "I can't-I can't believe you right now. Why would you bring that up now? What? Do you want an apology? Want me to say I'm sorry for ruining your sophomore year with my baby and my problems."

"No, I don't want an apology! I want you to stop seeing Dick before it blows up in _my_ -" he says before catching himself, but they've both already heard him. " _Your face_. Before it blows up in _your_ face."

"Why should I?"

"Why should you what?" Tim asks.

"Why should I stop? Who cares if it blows up in my face? Clearly it's happened before so why should that stop me?"

Tim shrugs in irritated confusion, "What kind of question is that? I don't know."

"Give me one good reason, _any good reason_ , why I should stop seeing him...anything." the blonde says the last word almost pleadingly. She doesn't look mad, more like she's begging for something from him and in return, Tim just stares at her blankly. When he doesn't answer her, she lowers her face and bites at her lip. "I should've known better."

"I don't know what you want me to say..." He states non chalant, "I mean, I'm just trying to keep you from humiliating yourself because we're friends."

" _Friends_?"

"Yes, friends."

Stephanie stares at Tim, really stares for a minute as if she's looking for something, before shaking her head, "Are we? I don't know what's been going on with you lately. I mean you've been acting a little off, but you do that sometimes. This though, I don't know who this is...but I think I should leave now and give you time to figure that out. You come talk to me when the Tim I know is back."

**Xxx**

His door is closed, though in retrospect he probably should have locked it too; but he figured he was fine. His parents weren't home, so it's not like Tim was expecting anyone to barge into his room while he sat on his bed with his computer shoving a whole pizza down his throat. He wasn't expecting anyone at all…So when his door just swings open, he's definitely surprised. He practically chokes on the slice he has in his mouth; and when he looks up to see who it is, he wishes he had.

"How did you get in here?" He asks.

Bart closes the door behind him and then makes his way closer to Tim, "Your housekeeper let me in."

Of course she did. Sure Bart doesn't come over often, but he's come by enough for Magda to know who he is. He's definitely one of Tim's friends...though something tells Tim this conversation isn't meant to be all that friendly.

"Well, what's up? Something tells me you didn't just show up to hang out," Tim says, holding his pizza box out to Bart. He was four slices in, but he could definitely spare a few hundred calories. Bart takes two gladly, which isn't surprising. Tim's seen Bart and Wally put away ridiculous amounts of food at one time and never gain an ounce.

He shoves half a slice in his mouth then answers, "I talked to Stephanie. She told me about what happened earlier."

Tim can't help but to make a thoroughly confused face. Not that Bart and Steph aren't friends, but did they talk this much before? It always seemed like Bart was closer to Conner than Tim was and Tim was closer to Stephanie than Bart was. He has no idea when he missed these two getting so friendly.

"Oh," Tim says in reply. It isn't surprised or confused or filled with any distinctive emotion at all. It's just a dry 'oh'. He isn't sure what else to say to that, but he's sure Bart's probably got more to say anyway.

"I thought we agreed you weren't going to ruin this for her?"

"I thought you did. I never agreed to that."

Bart bites at his bottom lip in irritation. It's clear that he wants to say something, maybe even yell, but he refrains.

Tim looks his friend up and down almost condescendingly before closing his laptop and changing his position on the bed to face him. "This isn't your problem. It's between Stephanie and me. Why do you even care Bart?"

"Because you're an idiot."

"Excuse me?"

"To be so smart, sometimes you're so dense you can't see what's right in front of your face."

Growing slowly frustrated with the vagueness of this conversation, he asks, "And what exactly would that be?"

He waits for Bart to finish taking a deep breath and easily notes the change in his tone. It's calmer, more exasperated now. "Stephanie dude, she likes you."

Tim almost wants to laugh. "Is that a joke? Stephanie doesn't like me."

At this, Bart actually does laugh, but not like he would if they were saying something funny. "Yes, she does."

"Stephanie's been my best friend for years. Why would she tell you and not tell me?"

"Maybe because she didn't want you to reject her? Or mess up your friendship? Or weird you out? I mean there are a number of reasons that come to mind. But she didn't actually _tell_ me. I figured it out when we-" Bart stops and Tim notices his hesitation but doesn't say anything, letting Bart finish the thought, "I figured it out a while ago."

"So why didn't you tell me?"

"I told you before, not my secret to tell."

"You open your big mouth about everything else," Tim mutters.

"Stephanie's my friend. She begged me not to. I wouldn't do that to her. The only reason I'm telling you now is because she said it didn't matter anymore."

Tim looks at the floor, trying to process what he's being told. There's no way Bart is serious. After all this time, Tim's pretty sure that he would've picked up on something like Stephanie having feelings for him by now. This can't even be true.

"Do you like her?" He finally asks and Bart looks as if he just swallowed a grenade.

"W- _what_?"

Tim repeats himself, pausing after every word. "Do you _like_ her?"

It takes Bart a moment to decide whether or not Tim is serious, but when he realizes that he is, Bart just rolls his eyes. He knew had been acting a little out of character lately, but this defensive, almost asshole demeanor he's got going is weird even for him.

"Why would you ask me that? I'm pretty sure I would have told you at some point if I had a crush on Stephanie."

" _Would you_? You didn't tell me this. Who knows what else you haven't told me? I mean, it would make sense though…Why else would you suddenly be with her so often and talking to her so much? It would explain why you kept this from me so long. Did you want her yourself and now that it's clear that she's not interested, you're finally putting it all out there? Is that was this is about Bart, are you heartbroken?"

He can see the irritation radiating through Bart's body. At some point he hit a nerve and it's getting some sort of reaction out of him. "I'm gonna stop you there, before you say anything else stupid without thinking, because that's usually my thing.

I do not have a thing for Stephanie, okay? Not that it should matter to you. You're possessiveness and desire to control her relationships is a little strange considering you don't like her. Stephanie and I have always been friends, and no, we do not always need you around to hang out by the way. We've been hanging out _more_ because _you've_ been busy with your job.

I don't know what's been wrong with you lately but you're not being yourself. Actually ever since you didn't get into that program and you got that job and you met Dick, it's like you've turned into some cynical asshole who feels like someone is out to get you. But _news flash_ Tim, everybody has their own lives. Nobody cares that much. The quicker you realize that, the quicker things can go back to normal. You didn't get in to the dumb fucking Master's program and you're parents aren't going to baby you anymore, so what? You're a smart guy, you'll figure something out once you kick this whole _'woe is Tim_ ' thing you've got going. Take responsibility, move on, and grow up or shit isn't gonna change. Maybe once you start doing that, everything can go back to the way it was."

At first Tim doesn't reply, just stares blankly. He's pretty astonished honestly, but he doesn't say that. He can't believe Bart just talked to him the way he did. Never once, has Bart just read him top to bottom like that, but maybe he's right

...or maybe he has no idea what he's talking about and should really mind his own damn business?

What does he know about anything? What gives him the right to make assumptions about Tim's life? He doesn't know what's really going on...sure Tim hasn't told him about how his parents really are or about the eating thing or anything really, but still.

"You have no idea what you're talking about right now."

" _I don't?_ So give me an idea," Bart taunts, and Tim is totally aware of the fact that he's being challenged.

"Well to start, I'm not some paranoid schizophrenic that thinks everyone is out to get me okay? I'm not that self-centered and you know that. _Next,_ you don't know anything about my relationship with my parents, so don't assume that you do. And I'm sorry if my less than chipper mood has been bringing you down lately, but _news flash to you Bart_ , some of us don't have it all quite figured out. I'm not going to college on a running scholarship okay? At least you've got that part of your life straight. Nobody would've thought any different of you if you hadn't gotten that scholarship whereas my entire future depended on me getting into that program. So I don't know, as my friend, you think maybe you could try to understand that I'm under a little pressure right now and back off?"

"What about Stephanie?" Bart asks and Tim raises his eyebrow. All that, and all he can manage is to ask about Stephanie. As if that weren't oddly suspicious?

"What about her?"

"You addressed everything but her."

Tim rolls his eyes, but answers anyway, "I don't want to control Stephanie's relationships or her life like you claim, but she's free to like whomever she wants I guess. I wish she wouldn't make such bad choices when it came to guys though."

"She liked you."

Tim shrugs it off. He barely wants to acknowledge that thought right now. "Yeah, well who said I was that great of a choice either?"

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well I hope you enjoyed...I'd been planning this Tim/Bart moment since the beginning and it's just the start of things starting to go you guys can figure out why? Any comments of Tim especially this chp? Maybe tell me what other thoughts and theories you have now that I'm back? plz review! :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys!
> 
> as always I want to thank you for the feedback and for reading my story :) only a few more chps after this-next chp should be exciting between dick n tim. You'll finally see where dick was coming from for sure, i'm excited about that.
> 
> anyways...enjoy
> 
> I do not own young justice

If he ever had to pick, Tim could easily say that these past few days had been the most uncomfortable days of his life thus far. Between work, where he and Barbara still had yet to _truly_ address their failed night together, and school where he had yet to talk to either Bart or Stephanie, Tim was practically at his limit. Home had been pretty mild, so that definitely helped the problem. He had done the majority of his post weekend socializing with Conner, which he didn't mind. Conner knew he didn't want to talk about Bart or Steph or Dick or anyone, so he didn't bring it up. It made things way easier and practically stress free, which Tim liked.  

 

It was Wednesday, just at the start of lunch, and Tim was paying for his food like most other days. He had planned to wait for Conner to take a seat but when he saw Stephanie looking at him from one of the other lines, he quickly thought to abort that mission, maybe eat in the hallway or something. Of course she had other plans. 

 

"Tim! Tim hold up!" 

 

He considered not stopping, pretending like he hadn't heard her, but he knew that she knew he had. 

 

"Hey, can we talk?" She asks, jogging up to walk beside him. 

 

He takes a deep breath and nods. He can spare a minute or two as they walk towards a table he guesses. Maybe if he gives her that much, she’ll take the hint and give him some space. "Um yeah, about what?" 

 

A brief, hopeful smile flashes across the blonde's face before she continues, "Your conversation with Bart." 

 

Of course, it had to be about that. The way Stephanie and Bart had been coming to bat for each other lately was really starting to irk his nerves. Plus, what was there to say? Was she finally going to confess her feelings for him? Did it even matter considering her thing with Dick? It’s not like Tim and Dick could date her simultaneously. Tim wasn’t even sure if he felt the same way about her.  

 

"Look I'm sorry you had to find out like that...I mean I was gonna tell you eventually, it’s just I know how you are and I didn't think you would take it well...I was waiting for the right time," rambles Stephanie nervously. Tim can tell she's at least being sincere in her apology, not that she had to apologize for liking him. It's not as if she could help who she has feelings for. 

 

"And I guess maybe I should've told you myself but...I'm just really sorry. I know you're mad but-" 

 

"I'm not mad," Tim sighs as he sits down across from Steph at a table. It's a lie. He was kind of upset, but he's a sucker for Stephanie when she gets like this. It’s like all the resentment he had towards her is just melting away. If he wanted to stay mad, he should’ve just avoided her. 

 

Immediately her entire demeanor changes, "You're not? But you haven't talked to either of us all week? I thought for sure you were pissed. I mean, I swear it wasn't serious. We were just-" 

 

At the mention of 'we' Tim's ears perk up. Why is there a 'we' if they're talking about her? 

 

"We who?" He asks and Stephanie looks confused.  

 

 _"Me and Bart."_ She says it as if it was supposed to be obvious. 

 

"You and Bart _what?"_  

 

"Me and Bart...he told you about us... _didn't he?"_

 

Tim stares at Stephanie incredulously. For some reason his pieces don't seem to match up with hers. "You and _Bart?_ What about you and Bart? What was he supposed to tell me?" 

 

Suddenly Stephanie's face is ghost white and her mouth is falling slightly agape, "He didn't...T-Tim I thought-please don't be mad-it wasn't serious-I swear we were going to tell you eventually-I just-I-" 

 

He listens for a minute but when it's clear she's not getting to the point, he stops her. "What didn't he tell me Stephanie, because all I got from our conversation was that you had feelings for me." 

 

Her instant blush confirms that at least Bart wasn't lying about that. 

 

"I ugh...um-I..." She stutters, a little embarrassed. 

 

"I was mad that I had to hear it from him and not you, but that was it. I don't know anything about you and Bart...should I?" 

 

She definitely looks suspicious, guilty even, and Tim wants to know the reason behind it. They're keeping something from him and he doesn't like it. Usually he knows everything going in with him and his friends, but lately it's been like he's been out of the loop, it makes him feel a little out of control. 

 

"It wasn't serious Tim...and it's not happening anymore...we just..." 

 

"You just _what_ Stephanie. You're talking in circles, just spit it out!" 

 

She takes a deep breath and looks Tim square in the eye when she admits, "Bart and I were...we were hooking up." 

 

Tim doesn't say anything or do anything at first. He just stares at her with a blank face. He isn't sure how to take that. Part of him wants to laugh. Part of him just thinks it's a lie, but he knows better. Stephanie isn't lying. 

 

She waits patiently for him to respond and when he does, all she receives is a confused, "What?" 

 

"We were messing around, but I swear it wasn't serious. We weren't dating behind your back or anything." 

 

"For how long? _When?_ " 

 

He can hardly imagine it happening and there are so many questions racing through his mind he can't process them all. How would he have not noticed something like that? It’s not like Bart was the most discreet character of all time. 

 

"A few months altogether maybe? It started a few weeks before school and it ended when ugh...well right before I met Dick."  

 

Tim rubs his hand over his eyes for a moment, trying to make sense of the matter but it's hard to get a grip on. So first it was her and Bart? Now Dick? And somewhere along the line, she had developed feelings for him too? 

 

"I don't understand how...you and Bart? I didn't even know you were interested in him. How the hell did that even happen?" 

 

 "I don't know. I think Conner was gone visiting his grandparents and you bailed on us to work on your application one night...it just sort of ended up being me and Bart. We got to talking-" 

 

"And then you just slept together?" 

 

" _No_ ," Stephanie glares, "Not right away. We hung out a few times first and then I don't know...we didn't start doing _that_ until after school had started."  

 

"And neither of you thought to tell me? Does Conner know?" 

 

"Do I know what?" The larger males asks as if on cue as he takes a seat beside Tim, pulling him out of his thoughts. He hadn't noticed him walk up. He didn't notice Bart walk up either, but suddenly the runner was sitting beside Stephanie looking utterly confused as to why Tim was there. 

 

Refocusing, Tim looks forward and motions towards the brunette, "Why don't you ask Bart?" 

 

Bart just rolls his eyes, clearly not in the mood for whatever this was going to be, "Ask me what?" 

 

"Ask about you and Stephanie maybe? The fact that you two were sleeping together and that you lied to me just the other day when I asked you if you liked her?" 

 

"I didn't _lie_ ," he sighs, "Stephanie and I knew what it was from the beginning. I trusted her, she trusted me. It was casual. You would know about that right? What about you and Barbara?" 

 

Internally, Tim's stomach drops. The first thing he does is look over at Stephanie hoping she hadn't quite heard, but of course she did. He hadn't told her about that and he wasn't planning on it. He shouldn't care, but knowing what Bart said about her feelings for him being true, he can't help but feel bad. Even though they joked about him and Barbara in the past, Steph still looks slightly hurt. She probably figured that was all they were, _jokes._ Had Tim known about Stephanie's feelings, he would have never joked with her about another girl in the first place. 

 

"That didn't happen and you know it," Tim counters between gritted teeth. 

 

"Only because you bailed out at the last second. You were gonna do it." 

 

"This isn't about me," Tim says, trying to change the subject. Even if he is mad, he still doesn't want to rub this in Stephanie's face. 

 

When Bart laughs, everyone seems to have the same confused expression on their faces, "Oh, what a surprise? Something that isn't about Tim for once." 

 

"I'm sorry Bart, do we have some sort of problem I wasn't aware of?" Tim asks and he sounds calm, but they all know that inside he's the exact opposite. 

 

"Guys maybe we should calm down for a second," Conner suggests, in an attempt to save things before they get out of hand. 

 

"No, he needs to hear this. Look Tim, I love you like a brother and all but I'm tired of having to walk on eggshells around you to spare you feelings all the time, especially these last few weeks." 

 

"Walk on eggshells? What? And I never said you had to spare my feelings. Where is that even coming from?" 

 

"You're kidding right? This is a perfect example. We didn't tell you because we knew you'd freak out the moment we did, just like you do whenever something happens that you don't 'approve' of. You like being in control of everything and when you're not, you can't handle it. Come on, are you really mad about me and Steph...or are you upset because we didn't get your permission first?" His tone is slightly mocking as he says the last part. 

 

Tim narrows his eyes, hardly able to believe what is coming from Bart's mouth. Yeah, he likes a little control and stability in his life but who doesn't? It's not the crazy dictator way the other boy is making it seem. 

 

"You know you don't own her Tim, she doesn't need your permission to be with someone." 

 

"No she doesn't, but I'd at least like to see her do a lot better than you. You don't even like her, you were just using her." 

 

"What happened between Steph and I was mutual, like I said. If I was using her, she was also using me but we weren't. She's my friend. I would never intentionally hurt her, not that what we do together is any of your business…which is another reason why I didn’t tell you, not that you should care because it's not like you want to be with her." 

 

"That's not fair." 

 

"Life isn't fair. I mean you would know right? With the Master's thing. It's crazy to me how you have all the money in the world and yet you still manage to be the most miserable person I know."  

 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asks, not even trying to hide the fact that he’s totally hurt by the comment, “Look Bart, I’m sorry if I did something to you but this, the way you’re acting, it’s like I don’t even know you right now.”  

 

“Look around Tim. We’re all fine. The only person acting different around here is _you_.” 

 

 Tim opens his mouth to speak, but before he can get a word out, Stephanie is standing and scolding them. 

 

"Both of you need to stop! You're being ridiculous. We're all supposed to be friends." 

 

"Yeah well you and Bart have a pretty fucked up definition of friendship."  

 

"Tim I’m sorry for not telling you, but you really have no right to be upset," she states, "We really didn't _have_ to tell you."  

 

"I almost wish you wouldn't have. I can't believe you two would...and then to just blindside me like this? Why would-wait," Tim turns his attention to Conner, who's been silently observing for the most part, "Did you know about this?" 

 

He doesn't say a word, but he does nod, his focused expression never wavering. 

 

"Of course you did. Everybody knew but me and nobody planned on saying anything because I'm too irrational and self-centered to handle it right?" 

 

"Tim it wasn-" 

 

"Don't forget dramatic," Bart adds with an eye roll and that's when Tim's had it. He could literally give two fuck's about whatever else they have to say. He doesn't want to hear it. So instead he gets up from the table and heads to class early. It's a much needed distraction from the disaster that was lunch. He just can't believe them. If they would hide this from him... 

 

Who knows what else they could be hiding? 

 

Xxx 

 

Tim's never been more relieved to get off work before. He spent his entire shift radiating anger and unapproachability, which actually kept everyone off his back for the most part. He appreciated it. Even Dick seemed to give him space, at Stephanie's request he was almost sure. 

 

It didn't really matter because it left him alone in the front without any distractions from his pissed off mood or the butterscotch blonde brownies he'd bought to try and suppress it. 

 

While they do taste good, his brownies don't do much in the way of making him feel any less betrayed. He's still in an obvious mood when he walks into the house. It only manages to get worse when he sees his parents in the living room entertaining what appears to be business guests. Of all the nights...not that Tim planned on receiving any attention or over-affectionate words of comfort from them, however nice that would be right now, but putting on some stupid facade for guests was the last thing he wanted or needed. 

 

He has every intention of just walking right past all of them but his father calls his name just before he reaches the stairs. So Tim doubles back and stands in the archway waiting. 

 

"Don't be rude Timothy," it's followed by a fake laugh from his mother. Janet can see the foul mood her son is in, but she could honestly care less, not when they're in front of important guests. "Introduce yourself to our guests. This is a client of your father's, Mr. Galveston, and his wife." 

 

Tim takes a moment to look them both up and down. They seem like your average, pretentious, Gotham socialites. He forces a fake smile that fools no one, and does as he's told. "Pleasure to meet you, I'm Timothy Drake." 

 

"What a sweet boy Janet," the woman sitting on the couch coos and Tim can't quite tell if she's being condescending or not, but he blatantly rolls his eyes and scoffs anyway as his mother accepts what is more than likely a fake compliment. 

 

"Why thank you Cynthia. Timothy is our only son, we did our best." 

 

 _"You mean you hired the best nannies,"_ mutters Tim and the look on his parents faces tell him he's been heard. The Galveston’s do what any other polite guests would and pretend as if they didn't hear a thing while Jack shoots his wife a look that tells her to 'go handle' their son. 

 

"Excuse Timothy and me for a moment. I'll join you three in our office." 

 

Janet gets up and walks towards Tim, putting a hand on his shoulder and then leading him towards a hallway where they won't be heard.  

 

"I don't know what's wrong with you but you're father and I will not stand for you embarrassing us like that again, do you understand?" 

 

Tim doesn't even bother to look at her as he replies, "Wrong with me? Gee _mother,_ I appreciate the concern." 

 

Janet laughs before wrapping a hand around Tim's jaw and forcing him to face her, "Concern? The last thing I'm concerned about is you and whatever melodramatic adolescent problem has you acting out. Find a way to deal with it that doesn't with it that doesn't involve humiliating us any further." 

 

"That's it? That's all you have to say? Don't _humiliate_ you? Would it kill you to maybe pretend like you care for once, ask what's wrong, or is there really not a single maternal bone in your body?" 

 

"You've never complained before." She spits out bitterly, mostly because Timothy seems insistent on wasting her time. "Now after seventeen years you suddenly feel the need to whine about our relationship, and when we have guests no less?"

 

Tim stares at his mother with a blank face, unable to believe what's coming out of her mouth; but maybe she has a point, why say something now? He just thought maybe, for once, someone in his house might actually bother to acknowledge the fact that he does have feelings, like a person, instead of treating him like an inconvenience. It’s like his entire world is falling to pieces all around him and there’s not a single person he can talk to about it.

 

 "You really don't care, do you?" 

 

His somber tone confuses Janet for a moment. She’s heard a lot of different emotions from her son over the years, but oddly enough, disappointed isn't one of them. "What?" 

 

"Do you even _like_ me?" 

 

Janet just rolls her eyes, "Timothy where is this even coming from?" 

 

"You didn't answer my question." 

 

"And that was?" 

 

"Do you even li-" he starts, but is cut off by the sound of Cynthia calling Janet's name, saying something about retelling a story from last year’s Christmas gala. 

 

Janet lets out a quick huff before turning her attention back to her son, "Look Timothy, I don't have time for this right now.” 

 

“Of course you don’t.”

 

“...You know what? There's plenty of food in the kitchen, why don't you go drown yourself in that like you seem to be so good at? And please, muffle the sound of your retching or at least try not to overdo it _too_ much, your already small frame can't handle anymore extra weight and people are bound to start making comments." 

 

With that, Janet fixes her dress and heads back down the hall leaving without so much as a second glance. Tim is left standing there alone and confused, but it’s nothing new. He's hardly surprised, a little hurt, but that’s not new either. 

 

He feels pathetic as his feet guide him towards the kitchen to do the very thing his mother pretty much mocked him for. But what else does he have right now? He's in the middle of a fight with his friends, and his parents don't care. At least food filled the void, however temporary. 

 

He raids the fridge, the pantry, the freezer, wherever there's food. Leftovers, junk food, sweet, salty, he's not really being picky at this point; and sits down at the kitchen island to eat it. He's forcing food into his stomach, and he's so preoccupied in thought he's barely tasting any of it. All he can really think about right now is Bart and Stephanie. 

 

He's not really upset about the fact that they were sleeping together, at least he doesn't _think_ he is. He _is_ bothered by the fact that no one told him, and then the reason _why_ doesn't make him feel any better. The things Bart said about him... 

 

that he’d become some sort of miserable, self-centered, over dramatic, control-freak! 

 

Where had that even come from? Sure, there were things about the runner that bugged the hell out of Tim, but Bart was supposed to be his friend. Then again...so were Steph and Conner but neither of them had disagreed with Bart. 

 

Did they all really think that about him? And if they did, Tim didn't really see why. Maybe it was _because_ they were friends that Bart said these things. They did spend a lot of time together, Bart would know what to say to get under his skin and he had. Tim sitting in the kitchen eating through his feelings was proof enough. 

 

He couldn't help it. Between his friends and his parents and school and his job, it was all too much for him to handle, and with nobody to talk to...well this was the only other option he knew that worked. 

 

Well, it worked a lot better before his mom had found it. 

 

She knew he did it and she didn’t approve. Yet she had all but called him fat earlier, which he knew wasn't true. Sure, he'd put on a few in the beginning, but the purging had sort of leveled that out. He hadn't _lost_ any, but he hadn't put on anymore since the whole rubber band pants thing. In the same breath though, his mother had also encouraged him to binge, like suddenly this was a game for her. This was just another part of his life she could use against him, something she could control. He didn't like it. This was supposed to be _his_ thing. 

 

But since he couldn't change it, any of it, he sat in the kitchen plowing through his food until he couldn't possibly eat anymore. He didn't feel like he was going to throw up like the other day, but he'd still eaten way more than his stomach was supposed to handle in one sitting. 

 

After he ate, he forced himself to dispose of his evidence and dragged his feet to his room, barely able to stand. He stripped himself of his work clothes and crawled into bed, without purging, even when he knew he should. He'd feel like shit about himself tomorrow if he didn't, but that didn't change his mind. He wasn't sure if he was skipping a purge because he was too tired or too uncomfortable or maybe to spite his mother...but he didn't get up to do it and part of him wondered if he stopped purging altogether, just how embarrassed his parents would be when his eating habits made Gotham tabloid headlines? 

 

He hoped it was a lot. 

 

Xxx 

 

Tim wakes up the next morning and seriously considers not getting up and going to school, but that does actually seem a little _"over dramatic"_ even for him. He gets dressed and makes sure to get out of the house before his parents can call him into the kitchen and ruin his morning. His first few classes are no different than usual and neither Steph nor Bart are in any of them which is nice. He's not really sure if he wants to be bothered by either of them. At lunch he does work in the library as opposed to the discomfort of sitting with anyone other his usual friends.  

 

By the end of the day he's more than ready to get out of there and get to work, not that he really wants to be there either, but it’s better than school. He's walking towards his car when he sees a vague figure leaning against it. The closer he gets, the more obvious it becomes that the figure is Stephanie. He can only guess what she wants, but he knows it’s something to do with yesterday.  

 

"I have work soon," he states as he stops in front of her, "So I don't have a lot of time to stand here and talk."

 

Stephanie nods, "I know, this won't take long."  

 

There's an awkward pause for a moment before Stephanie starts. "Look, I'm sorry about the Bart thing. I'm not sorry for doing it, but I am sorry about the way you found out. That being said, you didn't have to have to act the way you did." 

 

"And how should I have acted? Did you hear what he said about me?" 

 

"Yeah, some of the things he said were out of line. Don't think that I didn't tell him that. But some of the things he said had some truth behind them too." 

 

"Like what?" 

 

Stephanie takes a moment to look away, biting at her bottom lip and sheepishly answering, "Like the part about you not being able to handle it when you're not in control or the part about feeling like we have to walk on egg shells around you sometimes."

 

"Oh wow, well it's nice to know you all feel the same way!" 

 

"See, you're doing it now. You asked and I told you and now you're lashing out. Before it was easy to just overlook but lately it’s been getting worse too."

 

Tim just rolls his eyes, ready to be done with this entire conversation, "Well I’m oh so sorry Stephanie. I'm sorry that I’m not allowed to actually express my feelings in this friendship. Would it kill you all to take a minute to think about the stress that I'm under right now?" 

 

"Tim we know! And we try, but maybe we'd understand better if instead of lashing out, you actually _talked_ to us! I know something is going on with you but you refuse to tell me what." 

 

"There's nothing going 'on with me'."  

 

"Yes there is and I thought we were close enough by now for you to feel comfortable enough to tell me."

 

"Just like were close enough for you to sleep with Bart and then not even tell me about it? Please Stephanie, take it somewhere else." 

 

He stares off behind his car, avoiding Stephanie's gaze even though he can practically feel it burrowing holes into his skin. He doesn’t want to risk looking at her and forgiving her like he almost did yesterday. 

 

"For the record Tim, Bart was going to tell you." 

 

That’s rich. "So why didn't he?" 

 

"Because I asked him not to. You should know is that I came onto him. I initiated it and I am not too ashamed to admit that. We were sleeping together when he found out I had feelings for you. Afterwards we got into this big fight. He wanted to tell you before that, but I convinced him it wasn't a good idea and if anybody should tell you it should be me but I never did. 

 

When we got into this fight, the first thing he did was reach to call you and I begged him not to. I didn't want you to know. I didn't want you to think different of me. He thought if I wasn't going to tell you about us, then I should at least tell you about my feelings but I just couldn't okay? Then I met Dick at your job and I thought that this would all just sort of go away. Don't be mad at Bart, be upset with me." 

 

Tim sighs and takes it all in, trying to understand it all. Finally he sucks in his pride and looks at Steph. Her big blue eyes are pleading with him, like he knew they would be, and he hates how they get to him. He loves Steph and she knows it. "But you know I can't stay mad at you forever." 

 

"Bart didn't tell you because he didn't want to hurt _me._ You don't like seeing me upset, but if you blame him for something that was my doing, you will be. You're too close to fight like this. Just make it right with him, please?" 

 

Xxx 

 

"I let you have your space yesterday, but if you keep sitting at the counter looking like this you're going to start scaring customers away and that's bad for business." 

 

Tim glances towards the doorway, seeing Dick leaning there with a smirk on his face. Oddly enough he kind of appreciates it. At least he can count on Dick to be consistent even when everything else is so all over the place. It's not like the guy is growing on him, but it's easier to play nice with Dick when he's like this, predictable--most of the time. 

 

Tim laughs and returns Dick's half smile, "I highly doubt that, but if it makes you feel better I'll try to smile more or something." 

 

"If it's not too much to ask," He replies, before his face shifts to a more serious one. "Stephanie told me you all have been sort of having problems the past few days so I understand if you haven't been to most enthusiastic about being here. Not that you ever really are, but you know." 

 

Tim's eyebrows shoot up almost as soon as Dick says 'Stephanie'. She told him about the fighting, understandable. He just wonders if she told him why? There's no way she told him about her and Bart...so what exactly does he know?  

 

"O-oh, yeah, but I'm sure it'll all blow over in a few days." 

 

"That's what she was hoping." 

 

Tim nods, ringing up a customer's order before turning back towards Dick. "So she talks to you a lot then, about us?"  

 

The older males looks around the front, thinking about the question for a moment. "Yeah, I guess so. She trusts me I think." 

 

Why she does, Tim isn't sure, but that much is definitely true. Tim isn't sure how he feels knowing Stephanie so openly talks about him to a person he's not particularly fond of but Steph's proven she's going to do what she wants, clearly.    

 

"It sounds like she does, and believe me, she's not the most trusting person." 

 

"Do you trust me?" Dick asks, confusing the other male. 

 

"What?" 

 

Dick shrugs, "I kind of want to make it official with Stephanie, at least give her the option and...Well you're her best friend. If you say you don't trust me, I’m almost positive it would influence her feelings towards me." 

 

At first, Tim just stares blankly, processing what Dick is saying. He assumes that he's being asked for his approval on the relationship; but he doesn't see the point considering they've already been photographed around Gotham together for the entire city to see anyway. Steph already knows how he feels about Dick and that hasn’t stopped her yet.

 

As much as he hates the idea of Dick and Stephanie, as much as it kills him...if she likes him enough to want to be with him, he figures that's her business. 

 

"Do you like her? Do you actually care about her?" 

 

"Yeah, I do." 

 

"Then I guess that's all that matters," he says. It's not a legitimate yes but it should be good enough. It practically kills him to say that much but he's trying to be nice and do this for Stephanie because this isn't about him. 

 

Xxx 

 

Jason's arranging cakes in the display cases when Tim sees him for the first time that day. There are some days when he doesn't see him at all, but when he does, they usually manage to get a few minutes of quality conversation in. Tim isn't expecting today to be any different, at least until Jason opens his mouth. 

 

"So Dick has been particularly cheerful today...something to do with Stephanie." 

 

Tim nods, not even bothering to show any type of emotion, "Yeah, he's going to ask her to be his girlfriend or something."

 

"Really," Jason says, but he doesn't sound the least bit surprised, "And you're okay with that?"

 

"Why wouldn't I be?" 

 

"That doesn't answer the question." 

 

Tim lets out a short huff. So Jason's going to be difficult clearly. "It's not my most favorite idea, but there's nothing I can do about it. I told him it was fine." 

 

Jason rolls his eyes, "Did you?" 

 

"More or less..." He offers before Jason shoots him an unbelieving look. "Okay, so maybe not in those exact words. Does it even matter? I can't dictate who they choose to date anyway." 

 

"I'm not the most caring or perceptive guy but by the way you're talking, I can tell it's bothering you." 

 

"So what if it is?" 

 

"You shouldn't lie about it then. I'm just saying, maybe you should've told Dick that." 

 

"And risk upsetting him and losing my job?"                                                                              

 

Jason shrugs, "Better than risk everything blowing up in your face when you can't keep up with your lies anymore." 

 

"What makes you think I'm just telling a bunch of lies?" 

 

"Please," Jason laughs, making his way towards the archway to the back, "Every day that you come into work smiling and entertaining the idea that you two are friends is a lie..." 

 

"Is this more of that be careful so Dick won't eat me alive shit again?" 

 

Jason stops for a moment, looking over his shoulder and laughing. "All I'm saying is he's not stupid Tim. Just because he hasn't said so, doesn't mean he can’t tell, trust me." 

 

On that note, Jason leaves and Tim just turns to face his desk. He understands what Jason's getting at to an extent, _'honesty is the best policy'_ and all that, but he's pretty sure he can handle himself. 

 

He's also pretty sure Jason is giving Dick way to much credit. 

 

Xxx 

 

There's still at least forty-five minutes to close when he sees Dick putting on his jacket and heading towards the door, a ridiculous grin on his face. 

 

"Heading out early?" He asks and Dick stops, turning towards Tim as he zips up his coat. 

 

"Yeah, Steph and I are going to dinner. I'm gonna head home and change first, attempt to look presentable for when I ask to make it official." 

 

"Oh," Tim starts, genuinely surprised. "So soon?" 

 

"Why wait?"

 

Tim nods, forcing a smile to his face, however fake. "Good luck," he offers and Dick just smiles back in response before heading out the door. 

 

For a moment Tim just sits there. He didn't think Dick was going to do it on the same day. He figured he'd have a little time to get used to the idea, maybe talk to Steph about it. He hadn't liked the idea when Dick suggested it, but now that it was actually about to happen, he was repulsed by it. 

 

Maybe it was selfish, but he could hardly believe Dick even really liked her. They hadn't been talking that long! For all Tim knew, this was just a ploy to fuck with him. Jason claimed Dick was smarter than he let on, and Dick had challenged him once. Maybe he was moving in on Stephanie just because he knew it would bother him? 

 

If that was the reason, there wasn't anything he could do about it now. Dick was already on his way and Tim had already given him the green light. Regardless of whether or not Stephanie had feelings for Tim, Tim had never once reciprocated the feelings back or given her a real reason not to date Dick. She'd been infatuated with the idea of Dick Grayson for years. Who was he to stop her? 

 

Gnawing uncomfortably at his bottom lip, Tim glanced at the display case. He knew he shouldn't. He could think of countless reasons why he shouldn't, but the consequences were definitely being outweighed by the satisfaction. 

 

He hadn't even purged last time and that made him feel gross. 

 

But he couldn't just sit here idly and be forced to think about what Dick and Stephanie were doing. He didn't want to think about his best friend dating one of the people who held his future in the palm of their hands. 

 

It was enough to drive him insane. 

 

So he resorted to the only thing capable of calming him down.

 

Xxx 

 

In hindsight, throwing up by the dumpsters before making sure everyone was gone was a terrible idea. Hell, throwing up in the back by the dumpsters was a stupid idea period. But he'd felt way too full and uncomfortable to drive home with a clear mind and he didn’t want to risk his mom, or anyone else, hearing him. He'd swore he'd seen Barbara get in her car. She must've doubled back he figured, not that he cared. He hadn't even noticed her until she was behind him looking so damned concerned. As if his day couldn't get any worse. 

 

"Tim? Are you okay?" 

 

He's in the middle of retching, finger in his throat when he hears her voice and all he can think is _fuck._

 

It only takes Barbara a second to see what's going on. Almost immediately she's grabbing his free arm and jerking him to attention. "What the hell are you doing?" 

 

He spits once or twice, mostly to avoid looking up at his boss, and then wipes his mouth with the back of his other hand. 

 

"I had to throw up," he states, but he can hear his voice wavering slightly. He went from doing this completely in secret to getting caught twice now. When the hell had he gotten so reckless? How was it that all his problems just seemed to be snowballing into avalanches lately?

 

"On purpose!" She practically yells, pulling Tim towards the back door and into the bakery, "Don't lie to me, I saw you just now! What the hell were you thinking?" 

 

She pulls him into the break room and he takes a seat at the table. The way Barbara's looking at him makes him feel like a child getting scolded for spilling his milk or something. He's just trying to figure out what the hell he's supposed to tell her? 

 

She _saw_ him. 

 

When he doesn't respond, the redhead opens her mouth as if she's going to raise her voice again but then catches herself. After a moment of clenching her fist, her tone comes out a little softer. "Are you _okay_ Tim?" 

 

"I'm fine." 

 

"Then why were you sticking your finger down your throat back there? You understand how that would look to somebody?" 

 

He shrugs, and he's not sure why he's at such a loss for words. He can't even think of a good excuse. He's honestly too tired with everything that's been happening lately to try.

 

Barbara takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts, "You were throwing up on purpose back there, weren't you? Is this something you do often?" 

 

"I've done it before," he offers, trying not to divulge too much until he can get his thoughts together. 

 

Barbara's looks completely dumbfounded by his answer, as if it's something she just couldn't possibly believe, "Why?" 

 

He has to think about it because it's not like anyone's ever asked him that before. Finally he takes a moment and answers, "Control." 

 

It's dry and emotionless, but at least it's honest. 

 

"Control?" 

 

He simply nods his head as Barbara shakes hers, "Control of what? How would that help anything? I just watched you throw up God knows-what were you even throwing up?" 

 

"Cupcakes, brownies, stuff from the front." 

 

He watches Barbara lower her eyebrows, "But at inventory…I thought I was selling...do you actually pay for all of that? You know you don't have to?" 

 

"It's a lot of stuff. I wouldn't feel right if I didn't pay for it."  

 

She nods, only because she's not sure what else to do. She's not sure how she didn't notice? If Tim was eating that much, how come nobody _ever_ noticed? She thought she'd just been selling it all. It seemed that way whenever she did inventory after work. She would have never guessed she was selling it to Tim.  

 

"So you-you ate a bunch of food from the case and then you went and threw it up. That sounds an awful lot like an eating disorder." 

 

He's aware, but it's not like that. He's in control. It's not a problem. "It's not. You shouldn't worry about it. I've got it under control." 

 

"How am I not supposed to worry? Why wouldn't I worry?" 

 

He shrugs when he answers, "It's not really any of your business."   

 

"It's not my business that my employee, my co-worker, my _friend,_ potentially has an eating disorder?" 

 

"Stop calling it that," he says but it falls on deaf ears. Barbara's already on her next thought, trying to make sense of everything.  

 

"Have you thrown up here before?" 

 

"Parking lot." 

 

She looks so damn shocked, as if she missed something completely obvious. "I just...I feel so bad for not noticing." 

 

He almost wants to laugh but he figures it wouldn't be appropriate. "You weren't supposed to." 

 

She nods, but it's evident she's pretty overwhelmed by all of this. For a minute she's silent, her eyes shifting around the room as she tries to figure out what to say next. "Does this have anything to do with that night, the night we were together?"  

 

Immediately he bites at his lip because, _yeah that’s exactly what it was._ He never thought he would have to admit it seeing as he and Barbara never talked about it. He knows she probably thinks it was her, that something was wrong with her but it wasn't that at all.

 

He takes a deep breath and admits, "Yeah, it does." 

 

For a moment she just seems to process the information but then digs deeper, "What happened?" When Tim's expression turns sour she adds, "If you don't mind me asking?" 

 

_Well it's a little late for that._

 

He looks anywhere in the room but at her. He's never really had to talk with anyone about this, not even his mom, but he does kind of owe Barbara an explanation, at least for that night. Since she's pretty much caught him on the eating thing, he can be a little more honest with her now.  

 

"I felt uncomfortable," he explains, "With it all. It's not that I didn't want to or that I wasn't experienced. I had ugh... _gained some weight,_ I guess and I didn't want you to see it." 

 

"But I thought throwing up was supposed to counteract that?" 

 

He nods, "It does, but at the time I wasn't throwing up yet. Just eating. So..." 

 

She nods as if she understands, but she doesn't get it. Tim's aware of that. Nobody would get it. His mother didn't attempt to understand, just told him that they had to keep it from his father. 

 

"Just so you know, I wouldn't have cared. I'm not _that_ shallow." 

 

He should be flattered, but the situation he's in and the conversation they're having isn't conducive to that. "I never said you were, but I cared." 

 

She nods again and it’s followed by a strange silence. She's leaning against a counter while Tim sits in a chair twiddling his thumbs and wondering when this conversation will be over. After a moment, Barbara lets out a long sigh and takes a hand to her temples, looking more stressed than Tim feels like she should. 

 

"I figured you were lying to me that night, but I never imagined this would be the reason. Tim you...is this something you do all the time?" 

 

"What do you mean?" 

 

"Do you, _you know,_ binge and throw up a lot?" 

 

Tim's lips curl up as he carefully thinks of a way to answer the question. It's getting really personal now and he's not sure if he wants to keep going. "It just depends," is all he says. 

 

"But you've done it before? Tim I...I know I don't have a lot of say in your life and I don't know a lot about this but it sounds an awful lot like an eating disorder, really it does. Have you ever considered getting help?" She asks slowly and carefully. She's trying not to upset him. "You should think about talking to somebody." 

 

"It's not an eating disorder. It's not a problem, so I don't need help. I appreciate the concern but trust me, I have this under control Barbara." 

 

She nods one time, not looking convinced, just worried. He knows she doesn’t believe him. She's already convinced herself he has bulimia or something, just like his mom did. Only difference is, his mom didn't actually care. 

 

He stands to get up and leave, telling her that he needs to go. She doesn't say anything initially, but right as he's walking out the door she practically whispers, "I don't want to see you hurt yourself Tim."

 

He almost wants to tell her to just mind her own business again, but he understands that she doesn't get it and probably thinks she's saying all the things she's supposed to. So instead of being an asshole, he stops for a second to try and reassure her. 

 

"I promise I won't." 

 

Xxx 

 

The more Barbara thinks about it, the more sense it kind of makes; almost everything from the physical to emotional points to something being off with Tim. She's not an expert but she can think of a few things she knows about eating disorders, symptoms and signs. 

 

There's the weight gain, which Tim admitted to himself. If she thinks about it, that's probably the reason why he exclusively started wearing hoodies and jackets to work. It was around the same time Dick had set them up. There were things like mood swings and irritability...and Tim does have a tendency to be standoffish and even a little mean at the drop of a hat. She's sure now, that this probably had something to do with it. He admitted to binging and purging, both obvious side effects. Considering the stress he's probably under with high school, work and college, using this as a coping mechanism would make sense. 

 

It's literally all she can think about as she drives to Dick's apartment after work. They're supposed to be having a few beers and eating pizza with Wally, celebrating his new relationship status, but she's not sure how focused she'll be with this so fresh on her brain. 

 

When she walks in, she's happy to see that Wally isn't there yet. It will give her a few minutes to talk to Dick alone about this and maybe get his opinion. He usually is good about these sort of things. He's sitting on the couch, with a beer already sitting out for her. She takes a seat beside him but doesn't drink, just places her hands on her lap. 

 

"Something wrong?" He asks, immediately able to tell that something is off. He knows Barbara way too well. 

 

She inhales a deep breath and looks at Dick, "I ugh...I think Tim is a bulimic," she says and Dick just laughs. 

 

"Excuse me? What?" 

 

"Dick I'm being serious!" She says, punching him in his arm, "It's not funny!" 

 

He takes a moment to register just how serious she is and when it's clear she's not kidding, he sets his beer down and gives her his full attention. "Okay what? Why would you think that?" 

 

"I caught him after work, sticking his finger down his throat and throwing up." 

 

"Did he tell you he was a bulimic?" 

 

"No, but I'm pretty sure he was in denial. He told me he'll eat a lot and then he'll throw it all up. He said he'd done it before, that he liked the control."   

 

"Common answer," Dick acknowledges. "So then what?" 

 

"I told he should get help, but he claimed it wasn't a problem, that he had it under control. I just, I'm not sure what I should do."  

 

There's a knock at the door so Dick stands up and answers it, "Maybe you just shouldn't do anything until you know more about it?" 

 

"Know more about what?" Wally asks, wasting no time inserting himself into the conversation as he walks in holding two pizza boxes. 

 

"Babs thinks this kid at work, Tim, has an eating disorder." 

 

Barbara lets out a frustrated huff, glaring at Dick for running his mouth, as Wally thinks for a moment. "Tim...like Bart's friend Tim?" 

 

"Yeah him." 

 

Wally turns to the other red head with a confused expression, "What would make you think that?" 

 

"I saw him and he pretty much told me without actually saying he had one, but he does. I'm almost positive he's a bulimic." 

 

Wally takes a seat next to Barbara, grabbing a slice of pizza from one of the boxes. "You sure? I mean I've known him for a few years now and he never really struck me as the type. He seems happy enough." 

 

"I don't think an eating disorder is something people generally go around broadcasting to the world," Dick states. 

 

"Then why throw up at work?" Barbara asks. 

 

"So his parents wouldn't catch him probably? If I was him, I'd throw up at work too." 

 

"Are they bad?"

 

Dick rolls his eyes, grabbing his beer and taking a swig, "His parents are fucking assholes, trust me. I've met them, on more than one occasion actually." 

 

"But are they really bad enough for him to develop this?" 

 

"Well I'm sure the stress of school and work don't help. Plus there's the pressure to get into this program. All that, and his parents on top of it? If the Drakes were my parents, I'd probably eat away my problems too." 

 

"That's awful," Babs responds, genuine sympathy evident in her voice.  

 

Wally nods in agreement, "Yeah, he comes by to see Bart all the time and I never noticed anything was wrong. I feel kind of bad." 

 

"Yeah well it's only about to get worse. You know I was on that board for Bruce, for that open spot in the Master's program? Qualified as the kid might be, we voted, and he _still_ didn't get it." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, I hope you enjoyed the chp and are excited to see what's going to happen after the Gotham Master's bomb that was just dropped, plz comment


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I'm back with an update :) woohoo!
> 
> Like usual, i just want to say thanks to everyone who reviews and follows or faves this story (or messages and reviews telling me to hurry up and update ;) lol )
> 
> This chap should has some drama going on so i hope you enjoy it! Ive been waiting for this scene between Tim and Dick since i started this story. It's kind of what made me write Tim the way that i did (that and he seemed a little insecure on YJ, you know?) anyway, I hope you like it
> 
> i do not own young justice

9

Prying into the personal business of others had never really been much of Wally’s thing, but he’d promised Barbara that he’d at least try and see if Bart knew anything or could convince Tim to get help since she couldn’t. He just wasn’t sure how to ask. It had been a few days since they’d talked at Dick’s and he hadn’t gotten a chance to say anything yet, mostly because he hadn’t figured out how to approach the situation. Eating disorders were serious and he really didn’t want to say the wrong thing. 

Bart was in the kitchen late Sunday night when Wally finally decided to talk to him. It seemed like the best time, for once the younger male wasn’t busy or distracted. They could actually have a decent talk. So Wally casually strolled into the kitchen and sat on the counter as Bart rummaged through some cabinets. 

“What are you doing?” Wally asked, watching his cousin. 

Bart didn’t look back as he answered, “Looking for something to eat. We don’t have any more Oreo’s? I swear you just bought those. I need some chocolate.” 

“Nope, ate ‘em earlier.” 

“Of course you did.” 

“Speak for yourself. You destroyed all three bags of Chicken Whizzee’s yesterday during your all day video game marathon and I didn’t complain.” 

Bart opens his mouth to counter, but quickly shuts it knowing that Wally has a point. They never really argue or fight, but if they ever do disagree on something, it’s food. With appetites like theirs under the same roof, it’s hard not to sometimes. 

Wally watches Bart for a few more moments, before sliding off the counter and pulling a box down from one of the cabinets above the sink. “This is probably the only chocolate we have in this apartment until one of us goes shopping this week.” 

It’s a box of brownies, brownies that need to be baked of course. “Can we just mix them up and eat the batter?” 

The red head shrugs, “Yeah, sure, if you want.” 

“Crash! Let’s do it.” 

It’s only takes them about six or seven minutes to mix up the batter and once they do, Bart wastes no time grabbing the spoon out of the bowl and licking it. If this wasn’t something Wally was used to, he might be disgusted, but this was just Bart. He always preferred to do things a little differently. 

Now that he’d pacified his cousin, he figures now as good a time as any to see what Bart knows about the situation. 

“So,” Wally starts, feeling a little nervous. He’s not sure why, he just doesn’t want to approach this all wrong. “How’s school?” 

Bart shrugs, spooning more batter into his mouth and making it look almost normal. “Schoolish I guess. I just read the books and then regurgitate everything on the tests.” 

Nodding, Wally moves on, “Sounds about right. How’s Tim?” 

This time Bart makes a face and rolls his eyes. It’s quick but Wally picks up on it still. “I don’t know. Fine I guess?” 

“You don’t know?” That sounds a little weird, considering they’re supposed to be best friends. 

“Yeah, we got into this fight. He hasn’t talked to me since the middle of the week.” 

That’s definitely news to Wally. He wonders if the fight in the middle of the week has anything to do with Barbara catching Tim throwing up after work. “A fight? What about?” 

“It was stupid. He was mad at Stephanie and me because we never told him about us.” 

Wally raises an eyebrow. Bart and Stephanie are friends, he knows that much. She comes over sometimes, maybe even stayed the night once or twice, but he thought that was it. Bart immediately picks up on Wally’s confusion and puts his spoon down, showing Wally what he means with a mildly vulgar hand gesture. 

“Oh…oh!” he says as he quickly catches on. “Wait, really? You and Stephanie? So all those times she was…” 

Bart nods casually. 

“I didn’t even know you were…” 

“Surprise,” Bart replies sarcastically. “I’d appreciate it if you never mentioned it to Dick by the way.” 

“Y-yeah, of course not. That would be weird. So wait, is that why Tim was mad? Does he like her?” 

With his bare hand in the bowl, Bart answers, “I don’t think so. I think he was more upset about the fact that he was the last to know. Tim can’t stand not being in control of everything. What’s with the sudden interest in Tim anyway?” 

Wally hesitates, wondering whether or not he should just be completely honest. If Tim hasn’t told him, it’s probably because he doesn’t want him to know. At the same time, eating disorders are serious. Maybe one of his friends needs to know so that they can do something. After a moment of weighing the pro’s and con’s, he lets out a long sigh, “I think Tim might have a problem.” 

Immediately, Bart stops and puts his bowl down. He looks right at his cousin with a serious expression, “What do you mean you think Tim has a problem? What kind of problem?” 

“Barbara, his boss, thinks he might have an eating disorder.” 

An array of emotions cross over Bart’s face as he attempts to process the words that have just comes out of Wally’s mouth. “An eating disorder? W-why would she think something like that?” 

“She caught him throwing up at work I guess. And then he all but admitted to her that it’s something he does regularly.” 

“So she thinks he’s a bulimic?” 

“Pretty much.” 

Bart narrows his eyes and Wally can tell that he’s thinking fairly hard about something. “Th-there’s no way. Bulimics, they eat a whole bunch at one time and then they throw it up right? If Tim was…if Tim…no. I’m like one of his best friends; I would’ve noticed something like that.” 

“He would’ve been trying to hide it,” Wally offers, seeing the way Bart is about to beat himself up about this. It’s clear he had no idea. Maybe he should’ve tried a more subtle approach like he’d thought? 

“But I see him every day Wally. I mean yeah, he’s been-” Bart starts before suddenly cutting himself off and running a hand over his face, “Fuck. He’d been acting so different. Sure, Tim has his quirks, but he’s never been this bad and I just…God, I was so mad I just tore him apart. I didn’t even think that there might be a reason why he was so off.” 

“It’s not like you could’ve known. Friends fight Bart.” 

“I know but…I said some pretty awful shit to him Wally. Yeah, he needed to hear it, but I didn’t have to say it the way that I did. I didn’t even think…I didn’t understand…If something that big was going on why wouldn’t he just tell me?” 

“He’s probably embarrassed or ashamed dude. Who wants to admit that they don’t have control of their life like that? Technically he didn’t tell Barbara he was a bulimic, but the way she described it, well he pretty much is.” 

Bart leans back against the sink behind him, a mixture of disappointment and confusion plastered all over his face. “What should I do?” 

“I don’t know,” Wally admits, “We were hoping one of you would at least be aware of the issue, that maybe you could’ve told us something. What about his parents? You think they at least know? That they might help him?” 

Bart doesn’t even look up at Wally as he shrugs. “I…I don’t know,” he answers, realization flooding over him, “I couldn’t really tell you anything about them…He’s never really—” he starts, but doesn’t finish. Wally can see the frustration and regret practically consuming Bart in waves. He watches him grab his half eaten bowl, practically throwing it into the sink before storming out of the kitchen without so much as a second glance. 

XXX 

Monday at school Bart doesn’t say anything to his friends, not a word. If anyone is going to tell them, it can be Tim. Besides, he’s not even sure if it’s true. This is just something Wally came to him with because he was concerned, but even he wasn’t one hundred percent positive. 

The only thing he can think about all morning is Tim. Every time he’s seen him in the hallway or in class, he hasn’t been able to help but stare. He’s not even sure what he’s looking for, a sign maybe? But he’s never known any bulimics before. He wouldn’t know a sign if it was staring him right in the face. Tim doesn’t come to lunch, so Bart can’t observe him there. If he was doing something eating disorder related, he couldn’t possibly know. All he knows is that he’s worried. He feels like a terrible friend, because if something was going on, how could he not notice? 

XXX 

Work Monday afternoon is definitely a little awkward. Tim swears Barbara’s never come to the front so much in one shift, and she keeps looking at him with this pity in her eyes, like he just found out both his parents died in a plane crash or something. It’s borderline irritating. He understands that she’s worried or whatever, but he just can’t wait until his shift is over so that he can get out of there. 

As soon as the clock hits closing time, Tim practically bolts to his car and drives home. At least there he knows he won’t be bothered…at least that’s what he thinks until he walks in the door. He’s halfway to the stairs when his mother pops into the foyer with an undiscernible expression on her face. 

“Timothy, could you come to the living room please? Your father and I would like to talk to you.” 

He glances up the stairs and rolls his eyes. He was so close to the sanctity of his room. God only knows what they want. He hasn’t done anything lately, at least not that he can remember, but he’s sure whatever it is, he’s probably not going to like it.

He walks into the living room where his father is sitting in a chair with his legs crossed and his head down. One hand is rubbing at his temples while the other is tightly gripping the arm rest. That’s definitely not a good sign.

“Jack?” his wife says calmly, “Timothy’s home.” 

Jack doesn’t look up, just reaches in his lap and throws a paper on the glass coffee table in front of him. From where he’s standing, Tim can’t see what it is. 

“Go ahead,” Jack says, and it’s evident that he’s trying to hold back something by his tone. “Read it.” 

Slowly Tim walks towards the table and picks up the paper. He’s about to start skimming over it when Jack gives another order. 

“Aloud.” 

Sighing, Tim begins, “Dear Timothy Drake…We regret to inform you-”

He only makes it that far before his heart drops into his stomach. He knows exactly what this is and what this going to be about…and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t scared for his life. 

“Continue…” 

It’s hard for him to keep his voice from wavering in fear as he goes on, “We regret to inform you that you application to the Gotham University Master’s Program in the area of Business was denied for the 2014 Fall Semester. We appreciate-” 

“That’s enough,” Jack says, standing up from his chair and walking closer to his son. Instinctively, Tim takes a step back. 

“You want to explain to me what the hell happened!” his father yells, snatching the letter from his hands and shoving it into his face. “I asked one thing of you, one thing; and you’re so damn pathetic you couldn’t do that. You even got a second chance and you still couldn’t do it!” 

Tim takes another step back, mostly to get the paper out of his face, but it’s evident in the way his father grabs him by the collar of his shirt that Jack takes it as an act of defiance. “I’m not done with you. We wouldn’t even be having this conversation if you were capable of doing what was asked of you! And just when I thought you couldn’t be anymore stupid or useless! What the hell are you going to do now Timothy?” 

Tim closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to think things through for a moment. This is practically a trick question. He knows no matter what his answer is, it’s going to be the wrong answer, and piss his father off further. That’s a given. He just hopes that hopefully he can pick the least bad answer and maybe come out of this unscathed. 

“Well?” Jack asks but doesn’t give his son a chance to respond, “I can tell you what you’re not going to do! You’re not going to sit around here on your ass and live off of my hard earned wealth for the rest of your life!” 

He doesn’t respond, just listens. Maybe if his dad just talks the entire time, he won’t have to say anything and he’ll just be sent up to his room or something. 

Jack stares at his son, his eyes narrowing the longer he’s silent. He takes a step towards Timothy, who steps back again, only to feel his calves back up against the coffee table. It’s like being backed into a wall. He has nowhere to go now. 

“Now suddenly you have nothing to say. You can use your smart ass mouth to sass your mother and me all day, but now, you’re speechless. At least tell me, are you ashamed, embarrassed, sorry? Because I am. I’m ashamed of you, embarrassed by you, and sorry for you especially considering the fact that I am going to do everything in my power to make the rest of your stay in this house a living hell…which is going to start with me cutting you off from all of my money permanently.” 

Tim was at least a little prepared for this, as a worst case scenario. He’s been saving his pay checks from the bakery to hold him over for the first few weeks of exile. 

“I’ll be taking my car,” he continues and the teen definitely wasn’t prepared for that one. That one makes him raise an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?” 

He tries to sound calm and non-threatening. “I’m just wondering how I’m supposed to get to work and school without a car?” 

“There are plenty of buses all around this city, right outside the neighborhood. I’m sure you can figure out how to make the schedule work for you.” 

“Are you serious?” It slips out. He doesn’t mean to have an outburst like that, it’s just the bus? Really? In Gotham no less? It’s one thing to cut your son off, but Jesus, did he want Tim to get mugged too? Credit cards or not, he was still Timothy Drake. Somebody was bound to recognize him and assume he was worth robbing one of these nights. 

There’s a sudden throbbing in Tim’s face that he didn’t even see coming and the sound of hand hitting skin is echoing in the room. His father stares at him with a mix of disgust and rage. It was only a matter of time he supposes. He’s been struck for less so it doesn’t much surprise him. His hand finds its way up to the left side of his face. It feels hot now and it hurts like hell. It’s definitely going to bruise, if not give him a black eye, by the time he wakes up for school tomorrow. 

He tries to regain his composure for a moment and let the pounding in his skull die down some but his father just keeps going on his rant, yelling as if Tim isn’t directly in front of him. 

“I can’t fucking believe you! I don’t know what I did to deserve you as a son! I don’t ask a lot of you Timothy. I’ve given you everything a boy your age could possibly want and it’s like you don’t even appreciate it. Now what am I supposed to do? Imagine what people are going to say. The rest of the city is going to have a field day with this news I’m sure. It’s like you wanted to humiliate this family. Did you sabotage your application just to spite me?” 

At that, Tim rolls his eyes. Of course his father would make this about him. “Yeah dad, I did it just to get back at you, because I wanted to spend my night getting punched in the face and ridiculed.” 

If it was humanly possible, smoke probably would’ve shot from Jack’s ears at that very moment. 

“Timothy!” his mother shouts from her spot several feet away. They’re the first words she’s spoken since this entire conversation began, which is surprising. Usually she’s right there with his father adding her two cents. For the most part she’s been silently watching the entire thing from a distance. 

“It’s fine Janet, let the kid lash out. It isn’t going to change anything. I hate to say it, but we raised a failure. I honestly don’t know where we went wrong. You would think with us as his parents he would’ve turned out better. Maybe we should’ve gone the Bruce Wayne route and adopted a decent son like Dick Grayson.” 

And that’s when Tim’s had it. 

He can listen to his father call him names, belittle him, whatever. He can take a punch. It’s not that bad, but that…being compared to Dick Grayson…well, that’s a new one and Tim definitely doesn’t like it. In fact, it might be one of the worst things he thinks his father has ever said to him. He’s never been more insulted in his entire life. 

Without so much as a sigh, Tim starts walking away from his father. He doesn’t have to take this shit. He’s already been cut off, what else can they do? The only thing left at this point is kill him? But who knows, that might honestly be more of a blessing than a curse considering. 

“Where the hell are you going? I didn’t say I was done with you.” 

“I’m not listening to this anymore,” Tim says, rather calmly and he’s not sure what pisses his father off more, his calm tone or the fact that he started to walk off in the first place. What he does know, is that he fucked up somewhere along the line because suddenly a chunk of his shirt is in his father’s hand and he’s being pulled backwards with a force he didn’t know the older man even had. Before he can do anything about it, he’s losing his footing and crashing full speed into the glass coffee table. 

The sound of the glass shattering rings in his ear for several agonizing seconds as Tim lies on the ground. There’s glass shards everyone around him and underneath him as well. He’s a little disoriented at first, but as he comes too, he’s suddenly very aware of a sharp stabbing sensation in the palm of his right hand. When he looks down at it he sees the culprit, a nice sized piece of glass jetting out of it, probably from trying to brace himself as he went down. There’s a steady stream of blood dripping down his palm and his wrist but from the looks of it, he won’t need stitches or anything. It just stings like hell. 

“Jesus Christ Tim!” his father’s yelling as if it’s his fault that he went crashing into the table. “That coffee table was your grandmother’s, hand-made in by your grandfather in France! We’ll never get another one of those!” 

There’s a shard of glass sticking out of his hand, but of course the real issue here is the irreplaceable table. Surprisingly enough, even though his dad is bitching about the table, it isn’t until this moment that Tim realizes his mother crouching beside him. She grabs his wrist, looking at his hand with what might actually be a sliver of concern. Without warning, she pulls the piece out and it’s a little deeper than Tim expected but still not life threatening or anything. 

“Jack that’s enough. We’ll finish this later. Timothy go patch up your hand and then put some ice on that eye. Hopefully that’ll counteract some of the swelling before school tomorrow.” 

Carefully, he stands up and holds his hand upright to keep blood from dripping onto the carpet, not that he cares much about that. He just doesn’t want the housekeepers to have to go through the trouble of trying to get bloodstains out. He goes to his bathroom and finds a first aid kit and proceeds to clean off the cut in his hand. It’s uncomfortable and the peroxide only makes it burn worse, but once he gets it bandaged up it isn’t so bad. After that, he goes downstairs to the kitchen to find some ice for his face. He’s more worried about his eye than he is his hand. A black eye is harder to explain to people, then again, seeing as he and his friends aren’t really talking he might not have to explain it to anyone. 

Both of his parents are gone by the time he gets downstairs. He assumes they went to their room, probably to talk about him. He heads to the freezer, grabs an ice pack, and holds it to his face. His intention was to just get what he needed and leave but…well, he did see a really good looking gallon of Cookie Dough ice cream in the freezer. He knows he shouldn’t. He’s not even the least bit hungry right now, but he feels like shit and he wants it. He knows it’ll make him feel better, at least for a little while. 

XXX 

Tim can’t remember the last time he was late for school, but before today, it had been a pretty long time. Now that he’s stuck with public transportation, he’s going to have to factor walking to the bus stop and waiting for the bus into his morning routine. He hadn’t even thought his dad was serious until he woke up to find that the keys to his car were no longer on his key chain. 

Most of his day goes by in a blur of distraction as he tries to figure out what the hell he’s supposed to do now? He got accepted into Gotham U regardless, but if his parents cut him off, how the hell is he actually supposed to pay for it? Working at the bakery wasn’t going to cut it. And was he really going to have to take the bus everywhere? What would people think when they saw him? What would he tell them? Would the fact that he’d been cut off land in the local gossip circuits or the papers? It was hard to focus on anything school related when he had his home life and his entire future to think about. 

He had his last period free, which he’s thankful for. It’ll give him extra time to catch the bus and make his way to work. Tim’s on his way to the parking lot when he sees Bart standing awkwardly by the door. Bart does have his last period free too, so it isn’t much of a surprise. Just because he’s standing by the door doesn’t necessarily mean he’s waiting for him or anything. It could just be coincidence…but of course it’s not. That much is evident when Bart catches his eye. 

“Hey,” he says as Tim gets closer, “Can we talk for a sec?” His voice is soft and calm, not hostile or anything. Tim isn’t sure what he wants, except maybe to apologize? 

“Does it have to be right now?” 

“It’s kind of important.” 

He takes a moment to check the time on his phone and reluctantly he nods. “Alright, I guess…but I don’t have a lot of time. I got a bus to catch soon.” 

Tim isn’t surprised to see the look on Bart’s face. Tim taking a bus, it just sounds weird. 

“The bus?” Bart asks. 

“Yes, the bus.” 

“I could give you a ride?” the runner offers. It’s a stretch considering they aren’t in the best of places right now, but they are still friends.

“What do you want Bart?” Tim deadpans, walking through the doors and leading them out into the school parking lot. 

He looks a little dejected but he doesn’t push the matter. If Tim doesn’t want the ride, he can’t force him to take it. He can’t really blame him considering the situation they’re in. 

“I wanted to talk to you.” 

“I know that. I mean what is this about? Is this still about Stephanie, because I really don’t want to keep hearing about it.” 

Bart shakes his head. Honestly Stephanie is the last thing on his mind at the moment. “No, this isn’t about that. It’s about something else.” 

Tim can’t imagine what else they would have to talk about at the moment seeing as the whole Bart and Stephanie being together thing is the hot button issue right now. “Well what?” 

“I don’t really know how to-” Bart starts, “Wait, what happened to your hand?” 

Tim rolls his eyes and lets out a frustrated sigh. The lack of focus here is killing him. He barely even wants to talk right now with everything he has going on. “I feel into a table.” 

“Is that where you got the black eye too?” Bart asks, sounding oddly suspicious. What does this have to do with anything? 

“Yes, now what do you want Bart? I’d like to make it to work in a timely fashion.” 

Reluctantly Bart drops the subject and moves on, finally getting to what Tim hopes is the point of this entire encounter. 

“I’m not really sure how to approach this without upsetting you-” 

Tim raises an eyebrow, now he’s curious. At the same time though, he’s not really sure he can take any more devastating news at the moment. “Maybe you shouldn’t approach it at all then?” he suggests, but Bart shakes his head. 

“No, it’s important…I’m just...I heard some things about you that have me worried.” 

“Things like what?” He can’t imagine Bart would know about his rejection letter seeing as he hasn’t told anybody. 

“I heard Barbara caught you throwing up at work, and that it’s something you admit you do regularly,” Bart says, sounding as if he hardly believes the words that are coming out of his own mouth. “It just, it sounds a lot like an eating disorder to me, which is why I wanted to talk to you about it.” 

The first thing that comes to Tim’s mind is how the hell did Bart even know, but Barbara, how else? She probably opened her mouth and told Dick who probably told Wally would then told Bart. God, it’s not even that serious. 

“Have you told anyone else about this?” he asks. 

Bart shakes his head, “No. I figured you would do that if you wanted them to know.” 

“Good, because there’s nothing to tell. I don’t have an eating disorder. I’m not a bulimic or whatever you think. I’m fine and everything is under control.” 

“I’m pretty sure feeling the need to binge and purge is the exact opposite of ‘under control’.” That comment earns him a stern glare that has the runner turning his face away. “I’m just saying.” 

“Yeah, well thanks for that but, really, it’s fine Bart. It’s not something you even need to worry about. I don’t understand why you even are.” 

“Because you’re my friend. That’s why I’m worrying about it.” 

Tim shoots Bart a look, there’s no way that Bart could forget they’re in the middle of a fight right now. He’s lucky that Tim is even entertaining this conversation at all. 

“Yeah I understand you’re mad at me right now, whatever, but it doesn’t mean we’re not friends Tim. It doesn’t mean I still don’t care about you. How the hell do you think it felt to find out one your best friends was going through something like this and you hadn’t even noticed? We were so wrapped up in all of the stupid things going on around us, I didn’t even see it and what’s even worse…you felt like you’d rather do that, then actually come talk to me about whatever is going on with you.” 

Tim can sense the amount of hurt in Bart’s voice. No matter what he said the other day, he can’t deny the fact that the other boy definitely cares. There’s no doubt in Tim’s mind that what he’s saying is genuine. Bart’s always been a really caring kind of guy. “I didn’t come talk to you because there was nothing to talk about.” 

“Obviously there was,” Bart says, almost bitterly. 

“There’s not Bart. Everything is fine.” 

“How can you even say that? Shit’s worse now than it has been since I met you. You’re mad at me and Stephanie and Conner. I know you still really don’t like the fact that you have work with Dick especially since he’s dating Steph. Then there’s the stress you’ve been under to get into that program, not to mention you’re taking the bus in fucking Gotham; and now I have to hear from somebody else that my best friend is a bulimic. Everything is not fine Tim.” 

Tim lets out a long sigh, trying to figure out how to get Bart to calm down some. “Yes it is. I understand that you’re concerned and all, but you’re making a big deal out of nothing. It sounds a lot worse than it actually is.” 

“Am I? How would you take it if somebody came up to you and told you that I was doing what you’re doing? What would you think of me, what would you tell me to do, if you knew I was binging and then throwing up everything I ate, huh?” 

Tim doesn’t respond as the reality of Bart’s question hits him. He’s knows exactly what he would do, the same thing that Bart is doing right now. He’d go talk to him, try to understand, try to get him to get help. He wouldn’t want to know that his friend was suffering like that…but… “It’s not the same Bart.” 

“Don’t lie to me dude, I can see it all over your face. You wouldn’t let me keep doing that to myself. So why do you think it would be any different for me?” 

It’s silent after that. Tim isn’t sure what to say to convince Bart that everything is okay and it’s nothing to worry about. He’s clearly made up his mind about it…and maybe he has a point? If Bart was willing to come talk to him, despite the fight they’d had, and tell him that he was worried…well maybe this has gotten a little more out of hand than Tim can deal with. He’s already been caught twice now. That’s never happened before. He’s been getting more reckless and things around him have only been getting worse. Maybe the binging and the throwing up isn’t working anymore…maybe this is a problem? 

He looks down at his phone to check the time. His bus is going to be pulling up to the stop in a few minutes. He doesn’t have much more time. 

“So hypothetically, let’s say I did have a problem…what would you suggest I do about it?” 

A small hint of a smile hits the edges of Bart’s lips before he answers, “Then hypothetically, I would suggest seeing someone about it. There’s places all over the city, doctors and psychiatrists, that help with that sort of thing. I could help you look into…you know, if you had a problem?” 

Tim drops it at that and nods, “I gotta go or I’m gonna miss the bus.” 

Xxx 

By the time Tim actually gets to work he’s on the verge of a headache. His mind keeps jumping between a whole mess of thoughts and he can hardly focus on one long enough to actually think it through. He walks in and takes his seat behind the counter, but his focus is on anything other than selling pastries to teenagers right now. 

After almost an hour, he’s tired of sitting at the counter ringing people up and beyond tired of Barbara giving him such strange looks whenever she brings out more food to put in the display case. She’s not helping his day at all. In fact, she’s part of the reason it’s doing so bad. If she hadn’t opened her mouth, Bart wouldn’t have known anything in the first place. Honestly, who did she think she was? And he knew that everyone at work had to know by now. He was sure Jason, Damian, and Dick would probably be looking at him strange too if he’d seen them since he’d been in. It’s just none of them have wandered into the front of the bakery yet. It’s only a matter of time though, before someone does. 

Tim glances over when he hears Dick come through the doorway. He doesn’t say anything to him, doesn’t have any intention of doing so either. It doesn’t mean the other male feels the same. 

“Hey,” Dick greets casually with a shrug of his shoulders. 

Tim sits up with a sigh and turns his face, “Hey.” 

He doesn’t get a response at first, mostly because Dick is too busy staring at him with narrowed eyes. Tim already knows what he’s looking at. He got the same look from Bart. He’s been getting the look from strangers all day. 

“What happened to your face?” 

Tim just rolls his eyes, please. He doesn’t think the highest of Dick, but he’s pretty sure Dick is smart enough to put two and two together. He did before, the first day Tim came in. He knows. “Is that a serious question?” 

Dick bites at his bottom lip as if he’s not sure whether or not he should say anything, like he’s not really sure what Tim is expecting from him. Tim answers for him, “I think you and I both know that you know the answer to that question.” 

“I don’t…” 

“Oh come on. You know those letters went out the other day. You know I was rejected. You know what this is,” he says, motioning towards his face with his bandaged hand. Dick seems surprised to see that too but he doesn’t say anything about it. Tim just scoffs, “A heads up would’ve been nice.” 

“Tim, you know I couldn’t do that…besides what would I have even said?” 

“That I didn’t get in maybe? Something so that I wouldn’t have been blindsided by my parents and that letter when I got home?” 

“That’s not exactly how my job works Tim…and blindsided, really? Could you really call it that? I mean the odds of you getting in the second time were even slimmer than your first, you had to know that.” 

Tim narrows his eyes, looking Dick up and down. He’s implying something, something that Tim isn’t quite picking up. It’s not that he wasn’t qualified, because Tim knows he was damn qualified. He’d be willing to bet he had the best application out of all the kids that applied. His entire high school career has practically been leading up to this. 

After a moment, Dick cocks his head to the side a little staring right back at Tim. Then he throws the younger male off completely and laughs. He laughs. It’s not a regular, fun laugh either. It’s practically condescending. “Oh my God, you really didn’t know, did you?” 

Obviously not, but Tim doesn’t say anything. He just waits for Dick to continue, because he knows he will, if only to hear the sound of his own voice. 

“You could’ve had the best application—Well no, I read them, both of them. You did have the best application in the bunch, both times. Hell, it was better than mine honestly. But it doesn’t matter, never did. That committee was never going to let you in, no matter how much you deserved it. And honestly, I’m not surprised.” 

Something about the tone in his voice suggests that Dick is kind of enjoying this, that he likes having something to hold over Tim’s head at the moment. It’s reminiscent of how Dick talked to him when they first met, when he stopped him on his way home that night. 

“They hate you,” he states matter-of-factly. 

Tim’s a little caught off guard by that, hate him? He’s just a seventeen year old kid. What could he have done to make a committee of adults hate him?

“You and your parents,” Dick nods and as ludicrous as it sounds, something tells Tim that Dick isn’t lying. “The committee is made up of city socialites and Gotham Alumni, people who run in the same circle as your parents. People your parents have probably screwed over or pissed off. People whose kids go to school with you, whose kids always came in second best to you. Believe me, they had a field day in there with you application. They couldn’t wait to spite your parents in there, and ruining your life was just an added bonus to them. I couldn’t have saved you if I tried, or even wanted to.” 

Tim can’t help the confused look that’s probably plastered all over his face. It isn’t even fair. Something so serious shouldn’t come down to something so petty. If this was some type of popularity contest, he was screwed from the beginning. It didn’t surprise him that people didn’t like his parents, he hardly liked his parents, but for that to be the reason he didn’t get in was well, immature. 

“I might have tried,” Dick shrugs, “But I can’t lie and say that what they were saying in the boardroom about your family wasn’t completely true.” 

Sure, curiosity killed the cat and all, but Tim can’t help it. He wants to know. “And what were they saying?” 

Dick gives him a look, almost as if ask ‘do you really want to know’ but when Tim’s demeanor doesn’t falter he goes ahead. “Anything someone would know after spending five minutes with your family. Your father is a greedy, self-centered, self-serving, asshole who wouldn’t hesitate to throw someone under the bus for the sake of his own bank account or reputation; and your mom is an equally self-centered, malicious, bitch. Their words, not mine. Although, considering how your parents treated me when I first showed up, I wouldn’t disagree.” 

At this point, Damian wanders in with a broom, only to hear the subject matter and slowly walk back out. Whatever customers that were in the store have seemed to disappear as well. Tim is too busy focused on Dick’s words to even notice. He doesn’t remember when Dick first showed up, let alone that he actually knew his parents.

“You look confused. You probably don’t remember. You were really young.” 

“Remember what?” 

“Your parents aren’t particularly nice people, but I’m sure you already knew that,” Dick says gesturing towards Tim’s hand, “When Bruce first adopted me, God, they went out of their way to make my life miserable. At every event, every gala, they made sure I knew that I wasn’t welcomed, that I didn’t belong there. I think a needy, gold digging, circus urchin is what your mother called me? They assumed because I was foreign that I stole, that I couldn’t read, all kinds of ridiculous shit and they told other people that, for no other reason than they didn’t like me because they thought they were better than I was. I was like thirteen, in a new city with no parents, and they singled me out and made my life miserable.” 

Tim listens without comment. He knew his parents were kind of jerks, but he doesn’t remember any of this. Then again he couldn’t have been older than six maybe seven? The lingering distaste that Dick seems to have for his parents makes sense now. 

“Of course, everything completely changed as I got older and they got wind of my grades or the prestigious awards I was winning, it all changed. Then they couldn’t get enough of me. Suddenly the same people who’d hated me just a year or two earlier, were like my biggest fans. I didn’t say anything about it, but it was disgusting. It doesn’t surprise me that I’m not the only person in Gotham your parents ever upset.” 

Tim’s not sure what he should say at this point, if he should even say anything. He’s not sure if he should apologize to Dick or something, because it’s not as if it’s going to make him feel any better.

“Looks like it doesn’t surprise you either,” Dick says, “But yet, you were surprised to get that rejection letter?” 

“It all seems a little childish,” Tim says honestly, not really sure what else to say. 

Dick looks at him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, “Maybe it is, but your parents are childish Tim. They’re childish, they’re opportunists, they have no regard for others. They think they’re better than everyone around them.” 

“So what?” Tim asks, not that he exactly disagrees with Dick, but he doesn’t want to continue to hear about what kind of people his parents are, “Was you being an asshole when I first showed up here like payback for my parents being assholes to you or something?” 

“What? No. I told Barbara to hire you. You seemed like a nice enough kid when you were little, I didn’t think you’d be anything like them. I tried every approach with you. I tried to be nice to you. When that didn’t work I tried coming at you the same way you come at everyone else, like a jerk. I tried just being okay with you, I really did, but…” 

“But what?” Tim asks, eyes narrowed. He’s curious as to what the older male could possibly say about him after their time together. 

“But you’re just like them. I couldn’t even defend you in the Master’s Committee meeting. Sure part of it was spite, but part of it was you. Maybe you haven’t noticed, maybe you’re not trying to, but even the way you act around here proves it. The way you talk to people, that attitude you have like there’s always somewhere better you could be, the way you look at people—not even just me. And no matter how hard you try and pretend you’re not…you’re the same type of arrogant, judgmental, conceited, patronizing, asshole your parents are, like your father is…” he says. 

Tim just stares down at the floor, refusing to make eye contact. Nobody’s ever accused him of being just like his parents before. He can’t stand his parents and to think that he’d still managed to grow up to be the kind of people they were almost scared him. Did other people honestly think of him that way…they had to right? Dick said that the entire committee had rejected him, that they all felt like this. They didn’t want him in the program because they thought he was the same type of person his parents were, and apparently they were right. 

“It kills you doesn’t it?” Dick asks and his tone is almost mocking, “That’s why you do that thing you do, the bulimia thing. It’s the only thing that makes you feel better, isn’t it? Or is that your way of punishing yourself because you know you’re just as bad as they are but it’s too late to actually do anything about it?” 

Tim’s stomach drops. He knew Barbara had told, but he didn’t expect to hear about it from anyone else today. Hearing it from Bart had been bad enough. How many knew by now? Who knew who Dick had told? It was bad enough that he’d said it out loud just now. Thank God there were no customers in the bakery but then—

“Dick!” Tim’s head shoots around to the source of the noise, only to see Barbara, Damian and Jason all standing in the doorway. He hoped they all hadn’t heard, but he knew that was asking too much. He wondered how long they’d been standing there. “Enough! What are you—Damian told me you two were in here fighting, that you’d scared away all my customers, but Jesus, what is wrong with you?” 

Tim just draws his hand towards his face. This is one of the most embarrassing moments of his entire life. Everyone knows about him and it’s gotten so out of hand that Barbara had to come to his rescue, but that’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that…well, Dick might just be right. 

Barbara’s saying something to Dick about how he had no right to say that, and Tim doesn’t want this to blow up any more than it needs to. He doesn’t want to be the reason that they get into a fight or something. 

“Barbara, stop, please,” he says, putting his hand up, “Really…it’s not that big of a deal.” That’s a lie. It is kind of a big deal, but he’s already been embarrassed enough for one day. He doesn’t want to hear anything else about this. 

“But—” the red head starts, but Tim just shakes his head as he bites the inside of his cheek. “Are you okay?” she asks instead. 

He wishes that she would stop talking, that everyone would just sort of trickle out silently and let him go back to his job as if nothing had happened. He’d prefer the get about this entire day honestly. It’s quiet for a moment, all eyes on him. Even Jason and Damian have sympathetic looks on their faces, or maybe he’s just mistaking their discomfort for something close to it. 

Barbara sighs, glaring at Dick before turning back to Tim, “Maybe you should go home?” 

He wants to say no, that he’s fine, but he knows that isn’t really a question. She’s telling him to go home. Something about it just makes him feel inadequate. Dick is the one she’s mad it, yet she’s not forcing him to go? He doesn’t want her sympathy. He doesn’t want anybody’s. 

Instead of protesting, he just nods in an attempt to keep whatever small semblance of dignity he might have left. Silently he gets up and walks out the exit. Just as he grips the front door, he feels a hand on his shoulder. 

“And please,” Barbara says, “Be careful alright? Don’t do anything...anything you won’t be able to take back.” 

xXX

Tim’s pretty sure Barbara meant self-harm when she asked him not to do anything ‘he wouldn’t be able to take back’, but that’s not really his thing. She knows what his vice is and she can’t stop him from doing that. 

He doesn’t go to school and when Bart calls or texts him, he just ignores them all. He doesn’t want to hear anything about getting help right now. He doesn’t go to work and Barbara doesn’t even ask. Maybe it’s childish, but he hasn’t been feeling particularly mature as of late. So he just spends most of his time, locked up in his room reading or watching TV. His parents don’t ask either, which doesn’t surprise him. Every time he sees his mother, she gives him this weird look like she wants to say something but doesn’t and his father…well Jack won’t even look at him. He won’t even sit in the same room with him. Tim’s pretty sure Jack hates him.

It bothers Tim sure, but he’s so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he doesn’t really have time to dwell on it. It’s not like he was expecting his father to apologize or anything. So he just hauls up in his room for the rest of the week, only ever leaving to venture to the kitchen. The few times he sees his mom, he ignores her and her stares. The few times he sees his dad, he just pretends that he doesn’t because he’s sure that’s what Jack is definitely doing. Tim figures he’ll have to return to regular life next week, let everyone know he’s not dead, but as of this moment, he could care less about any of it or anyone else. All he has right now is himself and food and he can’t be bothered to think about the rest of it...

And then Stephanie shows up uninvited and puts an end to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, i hoped you enjoyed that. like i said I've been waiting to write this chap since i first started this story! tell me what you thought!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know it's been a while, but i dont intend on abandoning this story. I want to finish it. I almost considered rewriting it, but i decided against it. after rereading it, I just decided there were some things I'd rather address and tie up that I hadn't really thought about before.
> 
> Once again, thanks for all the reviews and kudos! I read them all and even though I don't reply to most of them, I do take them all into consideration and try to think about them when I write each part. Thanks to anyone who sent me a message helping me to get my shit together. I appreciate it and it keeps me coming back.
> 
> the chaps a little shorter than usual, but i didn't want to start the next part here.
> 
> I do not own YJ

10

"Damian could you watch the front please?" Barbara asks. He's still standing in the doorway with Jason and has a smug look of pride on his face.

Barbara lets him relish in it only because she's too busy trying to hide her fury to be bothered with him. She's pretty sure he can handle himself at the register for a few minutes while Jason takes care of the kitchen. "Dick can I see you in the back?"

He looks confused, but follows anyway. She closes the door and immediately drops the façade she was trying to keep up in front of the other two boys. "What the hell is  _wrong with you?_ "

He stares back as if he has no idea what she's referring to and it only makes her more upset. If he wasn't one of her childhood friends, she might've reached across the room and caused him physical harm.

"Really Dick, as smart as you are, you're going to look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about? What you said in there just now, you really think that was okay?"

He raises an eyebrow, an innocent look on his face. She knows the expression. She's seen him use it countless times with Bruce, with teachers, with press. He should know better than to think that look would sway her in his direction, no matter how close they are.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," she says with the upmost disgust, "I don't care how you feel about Tim. I don't care what his parents ever did to you. What you said to him out there just now was  _not_  okay."

It clicks to him as soon as she mentions Tim's name and suddenly he seems surprised. He wasn't expecting a scolding, especially not from her. "Barbara I was just—"

"You were just what? You were just being honest? Did that make you feel better? Did it make you feel good to tear down some kid,  _destroy_  him from top to bottom?"

"He deserved it," Dick tries to explain but she's too infuriated to even listen to whatever ridiculous explanation he's about to try and provide. Dick Grayson has always been able to talk his way out of anything but she's not going to let him talk him way out of this.

"How could anyone possibly deserve that? He'd a kid dick, a  _kid_."

He narrows his eyes, looking as if he suddenly feels betrayed. She should be taking his side. Growing up she almost always did… _almost_. "So now he's just a kid? He's a kid when I tell him the truth, but he's not a kid when you're interested in him? Seems like a double standard to me."

"Don't you dare. I can't believe you would bring that up right now. We can talk about that later… _after_  we address the fact that even though I told you that I was  _worried_  about him—that I caught him  _throwing up_  behind the dumpsters—you thought it would be okay to humiliate and ridicule him as if he hasn't been through enough. So his parents are assholes,  _whatever_. If they were awful to you, do you think he wants to hear about it? Don't you think he knows already? You said yourself that they're not nice people."

"Okay, okay," he says, throwing his hands up in defense, "I guess I went a little too far."

"You think?" she tries to take a deep breath and calm down but it's hard to think straight after seeing one her of friends act the way Dick just did. It just isn't like him to go out of his way to hurt someone so bad. Dick's never been a pushover,  _no_. She's not sure if he got that from Bruce, but he's never let himself or anyone he loves get taken advantage of, including Barbara. Thing is…Dick's hardly ever spiteful. He's never made it his mission to hurt an innocent person either. She's barely sure this is even really happening, let alone how to respond.

"Dick, you don't  _get it_. You just took an awful situation and made it that much worse. I don't care what differences you think you and Tim might have, he is clearly going through something and who are we to make it worse? We shouldn't be adding to the problem, we should be  _helping_  him. You know, the same way Bruce helped you after your parents died. Where would you be if he hadn't helped you Dick? If he hadn't reached out to you, how do you think you would've turned out, huh?"

Barbara doesn't intend for him to answer the question and he doesn't. He's content to listen to her rant off all the reasons he should feel like a jerk. She's not sure why she's advocating for Tim so hard, especially considering that she's so much closer to Dick…but part of her wonders if it's because she feels guilty? Because she told? Because she watched so much of this happen and couldn't put the pieces together until now?

"You did all of this,  _why_?" she questions, "Over a  _grudge_? To get back at his parents? Because Tim's a little apathetic, a little arrogant?  _You're_  arrogant! Honestly, you guys are a lot like each other. Just because he's a little more introverted and you're outgoing, doesn't change that. I've known you for years Dick, you think you were any better at seventeen? Only difference between you and Tim is that when you went home, you had Bruce and Jason and Damian and Alfred—people who cared about you. When Tim goes home, what does he have—"

Dick opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Instead he just lowers his head. They both know that she has a point. Without his parents, he had nobody. Maybe he could've stayed in the circus, but no one would've taken responsibility for him the way his parents had…the way Bruce did.

"—he has  _nothing._ "

He sighs, running his hand through his hair in an attempt to muffle his frustration, "So what, do you want to apologize for the way I was brought up? Maybe I was wrong, but he isn't a saint Babs and I can't take responsibility for Tim."

"But it's not all his fault. He's only—"

"A kid? He's  _seventeen_ , not twelve. Exactly how long is that excuse supposed to fly and how much is it supposed to cover? It doesn't excuse the fact that he played the part of the asshole just as well as I did."

Barbara throws her hands up in frustration. "Fine, so you and he butt heads. I understand that. He had his own flaws and tried to cover them up with pride and maturity but that's what it is Dick, a cover up. Do you blame him? He's probably confused and hurting and scared. And that mark on his face today… _did his_ …"

Dick knows what she's trying to ask even though she doesn't finish the sentence. He shrugs, "I'm pretty sure they did. Wouldn't be the first time."

"And you knew?" Barbara takes her hand, bringing it to her head and rubbing her temples. "I can't fucking believe you right now. I can't believe how insensitive and idiotic you were. Were you really so hell bent on proving a point that you were willing to tear him apart until he had nothing left? What happened in the past was the past. It's not Tim's fault his parents are the way they are. He was just a kid when you met them. It's not his fault he reminds you of them, that he has the same tendencies they do. They  _raised_  him. You can't hold that against him. You're not mad at Tim, you're upset with his parents and you thought that made it okay to treat him the way that you have?"

Dick can't think of a time he's ever seen Barbara so upset. She's always held her own and said what she thought. She never let anyone push her around, but he's hardly ever on the receiving end of her anger; and it's never been this bad.

"You are childish and I'm almost ashamed to call you my friend right now. The fact that you would treat him like that, that you would throw his eating disorder back in his face, that his parents might be hurting him and you said nothing— _after I told you I was worried about him_ —is disgusting."

She watches his chest heave up and down as he takes a deep breath. His face has switched from the smug expression he had only a few minutes ago to something resembling shame and regret. She wishes it hadn't taken her digging into his ass to get him to see it. "I know, I know. Maybe I shouldn't have said any of that, especially not now."

"No, you shouldn't have. But don't think I'm letting you off that easy. You are going to apologize and we are going to  _help_  him. I don't care if you hate him. I don't care if you want to or not. Tim is  _my_  friend and I am not going to sit back and watch him self-destruct wishing that I would've done something about it later. And I'm not going to let you sit back and watch either. Whether he wants it or not, we are going to at least try and do something."

He wants to argue. He wants to ask why he should even have to be involved, but he knows she's right. It's not about how Tim is or what his parents said. At the end of the day, he needs someone to be there for him because he clearly feels alone and he's obviously scared. Dick knows both of those feelings better than anybody and when he needed help, Bruce Wayne was there to help him. They might not ever be friends, but if something happened to Tim after this, Dick knows he'd feel at least partly responsible. Did it feel good to say what he said,  _yes_. It felt good to get all of that off his chest…but maybe there were other ways to make his point without being such an ass.

Reluctantly, he tucks his tail between his legs, if for no other reason than he wants Barbara to stop yelling at him. " _Fine._ "

"Good. We'll talk about this more later, maybe find out if Wally heard anything? See how Tim acts at work tomorrow?"

Dick nods and Barbara seems much more calm and content now.

"Babs, I'm sorry," he offers as she re-ties her apron and gets ready to head back to the kitchen.

Her lips are drawn into a thin, angry, line but she nods back, "Thanks, but I don't think I'm the person you should be apologizing to."

**XXX**

When he doesn't show up to work on Friday, and Damian says that he wasn't at school again, Barbara starts to get worried. She knows that Tim probably doesn't want to talk to her, because she did tell his secret, but she'd at least like to know that he's okay. So she asks Dick to ask Stephanie if she'll come by the bakery. He can at least do that much and she knows that Tim and Stephanie are close. Maybe he'll talk to her?

It's a little awkward at first when Stephanie comes into the back room to see her. She's not sure if Stephanie knows about her and Tim or not, but it makes the whole thing a little weird. They're all just a little too close for comfort at this point, but its clear Tim isn't a social butterfly. She doesn't have that many options.

"Hey," Stephanie says to her, lips curled in nervously. She takes a seat across from Barbara. "Dick said this was about Tim?"

Barbara nods, happy to get right to the point. "Yeah, I'm just…I'm kind of worried about him. Have you talked to him at all?"

"No, we haven't really talked since last week. We had a fight and we haven't exactly made up yet," she explains. Her voice sounds almost regretful. Barbara can understand that feeling. She imagines that everyone close to him is feeling that way. It's a shame it took them all this long to realize there was a problem that was bigger than whatever petty differences they all might have with him.

It only takes Stephanie a few seconds, but then suddenly pieces are fitting themselves together in her head. Tim hadn't shown up at most of that week and no one had heard from him. That isn't like him. "Wait, why are you worried? Did something happen to him?"

"Not physically at least…I just, I know things aren't easy for him right now and I'm really worried. He won't talk to me because he knows I said something about the bulimia—"

"Wait,  _what?_ " Stephanie can't even begin to comprehend what she just heard, if she even heard it right, "Did you say bulimia? What are you talking about?"

"You didn't know?"

"Know what?"

"I caught Tim forcing himself to throw up behind the dumpsters. He admitted to me that he's done it before, that he binges a lot and he throws up. He wouldn't say he had bulimia, but, well it sounded an awful lot like bulimia. I thought by now you'd heard, that maybe Dick or Bart would've told you."

She knew absolutely nothing about it and she's upset that she didn't. How could something that serious be going on right under her nose? Why would nobody tell her? She was pretty sure she deserved to know. "No, nobody said anything to me."

Barbara frowns, but there's no time to dwell on it. Whether or not someone informed Stephanie isn't the issue right now. "Well now you do know, and I know he trusts you. I was hoping maybe he would talk to you, that maybe you could get him to come around. We're trying to figure out the best way to help him but we can't if he won't let us. I don't think he'll listen to me because I talked. "

At first Stephanie nods, completely in agreement. Of course they have to help Tim, as if she would say no to that but…well why is it that Barbara is telling her this? Why does Barbara care so much? Stephanie can't help thinking about what Bart said at the table, about how she and Tim almost slept together. She knows she shouldn't care. She's dating Dick, but she can't help the twinge of jealousy she feels. Just what kind of relationship do Barbara and Tim have? Things have been getting so hectic lately, she hasn't really had time to talk to him about it.

"Are you…are you seeing Tim?" she asks. The question seems a little out of place, but she just has to ask.

Barbara looks caught off guard completely, but her expression soon softens into something that almost resembles empathy. "No, it's nothing like that. I just don't want to see anything bad happen to him,  _as a friend_."

**XXX**

"Tim?" he hears from his doorway. He's equal amounts surprised and relieved to see that it isn't his dad, come to harass him…but in order to be harassed, they'd have to be  _talking_  and at the moment it seems as if Jack is still going through an ' _I have no son_ ' phase.

"You weren't at school today," she says, walking across the room and attempting to find a place to sit on his bed. There's trash and junk from last night's binge all over it. A few weeks ago he might've care if someone saw this—if  _Stephanie_  saw this; but seeing as almost everyone knows now, what is there to be ashamed of? He just pushes the pile off the bed. "People are worried about you."

He finds it funny that everyone, except the two people he's actually related to and live with, cares about his well-being; he's pretty sure that's just the years of suppressed bitterness building up. "I'm fine. I just wasn't in the mood to go to school."

"You don't  _look_  fine." There are bags under his eyes along with the bruise that's begun to turn colors. His hair isn't combed into its usual perfection, instead strewn about, messy and un-gelled. He doesn't even look so much upset as he does tired.

"Well looks can be deceiving. If I say I'm fine, then I'm fine, okay?" He doesn't snap or yell or come off as belligerent in any sense of the word. His tone isn't forceful, like he's trying to fight with her. It's hard for Stephanie not to notice, considering the way he's been acting lately. Almost every conversation anyone has tried to have with him has turned into an argument. She and him aren't even on the best of terms right now. She's surprised he didn't kick her out on sight.

Stephanie bites her lip. She doesn't want this to drag out and give Tim a chance to figure out why she's here and get upset. "I know," she says, and he squints his eyes, "I know about the…the eating disorder."

And there it is. In his mind this moment almost played out a lot worse, more humiliating and earth shattering. He thought Stephanie would judge him. He thought he'd probably die of humiliation, but nothing. He feels nothing, except maybe a mild irritation.

"It's not an eating disorder," he reiterates for the millionth time as he crawls out of his bed and starts picking up trash just to equip himself with some sort of distraction.

She's not sure why, but something about his response just irks her. Does he think she's stupid? They've been best friends for years. Why would he lie? "Then what is it Tim? Because I heard the words binge and throw up. Those sound an awful lot like the symptoms of an eating disorder to me."

Even she's surprised by the edge in her voice. Maybe it's a defense mechanism, or her way of appeasing her own guilt, but she's frustrated. She just wants everything to go back to the way it was, but none of that can happen until Tim stops throwing himself the season's biggest pity party. Sure none of them are innocent, and it isn't Tim's fault that this is happening to him, but they can't help him if he doesn't want to help himself either.

"Jesus, did Barbara tell you too? Or did you hear that from Bart or maybe even Dick?" He asks tossing his trash filled hands in the air.

"She did it because she cares about you."

Stephanie didn't deny it, so it's obvious Barbara talked,  _again_. Tim stuffs his collected up wrappers into a trash can, and waves his hands around the bedroom, "She isn't here."

"She didn't think you would talk to her, because she told," Stephanie explains, "Was she wrong?"

His only response is an eye roll. She silently kicks her feet back and forth from the edge of his bed, watching him clean up last night's binge and wondering what the hell happened? What happened to  _them_? Their once solid friendship was on the verge of disaster. There was her and Bart, Conner knowing and not saying anything, this eating disorder. There was the master's program. Her new relationship with Dick and her old feelings for Tim— _which had yet to honestly be addressed by anyone other than Bart_. Everything was just a mess of what it used to be.

"How long have you been doing this Tim? Please don't lie to me."

He shrugs. What's the point of lying if everyone knows? "On and off for a few years maybe."

"Why didn't you tell anybody? Why didn't you tell me?"

Tim looks everywhere but Stephanie, purposely avoiding her eyes. It's going to sound ridiculous when he says it out loud. He already knows what her response is going to be. "I thought…I thought you would think different of me if you knew. I thought you'd think I was gross, disgusting. I thought you all might make a big deal about it."

It breaks her heart to hear that. To hear that not only has thing been going on for longer than she imagined, but that he felt like he couldn't tell her or anyone. As if they would've judged him or something? Maybe they would've made a big deal, but only because this is a big deal. Why doesn't he get that?

"Of course we would've, but not because we'd want to ridicule you. We care about you. We wouldn't want to see you hurt yourself."

"I wasn't hurting myself," he tries to clarify and she immediately opens her mouth to counter. If nothing else, she can probably relay all the facts they learned about eating disorders in health class. She doesn't get it though. This isn't him punishing himself. "I was doing this because I wanted to  _stop_  hurting."

She just looks confused. She doesn't even pretend to understand. Why would someone do this to themselves? How would this make someone feel better? She feels stupid for not being able to relate. When she needed Tim two years ago, he'd seemed to have all the answers. She just didn't. "I'm sorry I don't get it."

"That's fine. I don't think anyone really does."

"Explain it to me. I want to understand. I want to help you."

He looks reluctant. It's obvious that this is the last thing that he wants to do, but he takes a deep breath and he tries. "My whole life my parents expected me to be better than everyone else, because they thought they were better than everyone else. You know how hard that is, trying to beat everyone at  _everything_? No one is naturally good at everything. Some things came easy, but other things were really hard. And I thought…half way through freshman year it was obvious that I was a shoe in for head of the class and an acceptance to any school I wanted. I'd joined clubs. I aced tests. I had an entire resume full of shit I didn't want to do to keep up this act but that wasn't enough. It was  _never_  good enough and I just felt like my whole life was being led for me…

I don't even remember what happened exactly. I just remember being tired of it, of hearing their mouths, but I couldn't actually do anything about it. I would just sit at dinner, focused on my food, eating and eating so I wouldn't have to look at anybody or talk to anyone. It worked for a little while. At least until I realized you can't eat that much without people noticing, but I didn't want to stop eating. It worked and I  _liked_  it. But being fat didn't necessarily fit into my parents perfect life, so I compromised. I ate what I want. Sometimes I worked it off, but then I realized it was easier to throw it all back up again. I did that. It was perfect."

Stephanie nods at every other word, completely wrapped up in the story. She's so enamored with it, trying to figure out when any of this was taking place and understand where he's coming from. There's lives are so different, it's hard to imagine feeling that way. "But you said it was on and off? So you weren't always doing this?"

He shrugs. He still can't bring himself to look at her, even after admitting this. "No, I could handle it back then. I stopped when I felt like I didn't need to do it anymore. When it happened again I was convinced that I'd outsmarted everyone else the first time, so I figured I could do it again. If I only did it for short periods of time, or when things got really bad no one would ever know? It felt like I was getting away with something and for once, it was all me. It was my choice, my decisions. I was in control and I loved that. I loved that feeling, but I knew it couldn't last forever. I only did it here and there, so it was never that bad anyway. I thought I didn't have a problem because it was never that bad."

"But this time?" Stephanie asks, although she's pretty sure she knows the answer.

"Well this time it kind of blew up in my face," he replies casually, "So there's only two options really."

"And what are those?"

"Either I'm right and everyone else is wrong. You're all making a big deal out of nothing and I totally have all of this under control."

"Or…"

"Everyone else is right and I'm not okay."

Stephanie bites her lip. She can only imagine how much it would hurt him to admit that he was wrong. Tim had spent his whole life being right. She wants to say something, she just has no idea what the hell she's supposed to say. What is possibly going to make this okay? She doesn't even get a chance to open her mouth and spew out generic  _'it's going to be okay'_  phrases.

"Bart talked to me the other day," Tim says, playing with the bandages on his hand, "about the same thing actually. You know what he asked me?"

Stephanie shakes her head.

"He asked me, if I had heard what he heard about me, about him, what would I think of him? What would I do?"

"What did you tell him?"

"That I'd give him tips the next time he wanted to lose some weight and shave a few seconds off his mile," Tim says dryly before stifling a laugh. There's no humor behind it, not that he intended there to be. "What do you think I told him? I'm not heartless. I said I'd do something about it and that was…that was the first time I realized that what I was doing wasn't helping. I was doing it so that I wouldn't hurt, but I didn't realize how much it would hurt other people…or at least how much it would hurt my  _friends._ "

She nods, ready to reassure him that everything is going to be okay, that he'll get help…but her mind stops on his last sentence—his emphasis on friends. It's like he's specifically excluding someone. "Not anyone else?"

Tim laughs again, "Well definitely not my parents. My mom knows. She doesn't care. She just wants to make sure that my dad and their friends don't find out. Socialite thing I guess. Image is more important than family."

"That's not true. Socialite, or not, you're still their son. Bruce Wayne doesn't act that way with Dick, Jason and Damian."

Tim finally looks at her again and rolls his eyes. She would think she'd hit a nerve, mentioning Dick, but there's a slight upturn to Tim's lips, like a half assed smirk, "Well, lucky him."

"He's not that bad Tim," she counters because it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know she's talking about Dick. He doesn't ask her if she knows about the argument he and Dick got into yesterday. He's not going to be the reason that their relationship crashes and burns, as if he needs that shit on his conscience.

"Yeah, I'm sure deep down on the inside he's just lovely. He probably volunteers in his spare time and rescues kittens from trees."

"He's not complete jerk to his friends when they're trying to help him."

He scoffs and makes a face, not even caring that if she sees him.

"What's that face for?"

"We've been arguing a lot lately," he answers, "You've called me a lot of things. I'm just confused. You had feelings for me before, did that change after you met him?"

Stephanie frowns. She'd hoped that her crush would never actually come to the light. Once it had, she hoped maybe it would get swept under the rug. Of course that would've been too easy.

"Does it matter Tim? Dick doesn't have anything to do with this."

Tim would love to yell that he does. Dick does have at least some sort of part in this, but he doesn't, if only for Stephanie's sake. He wouldn't want to completely demean her boyfriend. His problem with Dick doesn't have to be hers too.

"I was just curious, seeing as we never talked about it…but no, I guess it doesn't matter anymore, does it? This probably would've ruined everything anyway."

"This?" Stephanie questions.

Tim doesn't clarify. She knows what he means. It's the reason she's here anyway. It's the reason for everything.

"Tim, I don't want to fight. Just tell me, are you going to get help? Are you going to let us help you?"

Tim drops his scowl and nods, "I guess it's worth a shot but…" Stephanie makes a face, "Well, I don't know about my parents. They probably won't be as open. Word gets out that I have this…this  _problem_ …"

He's still calling it a problem. He's still refusing to call it what it actually is.

"And well, they don't like being blindsided or embarrassed."

Stephanie doesn't care. She just smiles, "You let us handle that." Before he knows what's happening, she's jumping off his bed and wrapping her arms around him, pulling him into a strong hug. "I'm just happy you said yes. I'd hate to see something happen to you."

Tim manages a small smile. Even after all the fights and everything else, he knows she cares. She genuinely cares. It still makes him happy to know that.

"Can you tell me something?" he asks, pulling away from her and destroying the entire moment. "Do you think we would've worked?"

He doesn't mean to kill her joy, he just has to know. He never gave any real thought to him and Stephanie before, even after Bart said something. Part of him does wonder though, if they obviously care about each other this much, and nothing had ever gotten in the way, would they have been something? Had he missed out on something that was so blatantly in his face?

"I don't see why it matters. I'm with Dick now, I…"

He should've known she would say something like that, "Just answer the question Stephanie. Despite everything, do you think we would've worked?"

She frowns and turns her eyes away from him, her shoulders sagging sadly. She never stopped liking him, but circumstances prevented them from even being able to discuss it. Things are different now sure and Tim isn't in the best of places, but he asked her sincerely and somehow she doesn't think it would be fair to be anything but honest.

" _I think we still would_."

**XXX**

He regrets it after she leaves.

He regrets agreeing to take their help.

He just wanted them off his back. Tim knows they care. He appreciates it. It's just...they're all convinced he has an eating disorder, which he doesn't. It's just a problem that got a little bit out of hand. He's sure he could've reeled it in himself if he'd had more time…and less going on…and no one had found out; but the fact that they think he's sick isn't even the worst part.

The worst part is the fact that they're going to tell his parents. He agreed to let them tell his parents. What was he thinking? He just didn't want to see Stephanie upset, but he's sure she would've gotten over it. His mom knows about the problem, but his dad doesn't and she might act she didn't either just to save face. He can only imagine what they'll say, what they'll do, what they'll do to  _him_.

It's going to be a disaster...

and he only knows one way to deal with the anxiety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks. I'm just happy to have updated.


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